


Illusion of Transparency

by BunnyBopper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Occlumency, References to Torture, Spying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:36:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyBopper/pseuds/BunnyBopper
Summary: When it is clear that Remus is struggling under the weight of being his spy, Dumbledore once again enlists a begrudged Severus Snape to help him. Under the pressures of war, the two become closer. But why is Remus the only person whose thoughts Severus can't hear? And when the Dark Lord decides the werewolves are more trouble than they are worth, Severus has a choice to make.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Comments: 120
Kudos: 340
Collections: Snape Bigbang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the Snape Big Bang 2019 which has been a fantastic experience. 
> 
> Artwork by the incredible M_Renoir!
> 
> Thanks to StoryPlease for the beta help. 
> 
> Warnings: references to torture, reference to the captivity of a child and intent to kill a child

Severus Snape was no stranger to bottling up his emotions. It had, after all this time, become second nature to him: so much so that sometimes he didn't feel anything anymore.

Emotions didn't come from external sources. They were triggered by thoughts. For example, if he thought his third year Gryffindors all earned Ds for their latest essay because he was a worthless teacher, he would feel a sense of shame at his failure. By contrast, if he thought it was because they were a bunch of arrogant dimwits who spent more time misbehaving than paying attention, he would feel anger and frustration at their failure. If he thought that at least their grades showed the areas where improvement could be made...well...things would probably be better for everyone, but he rarely thought that way.

The point, however, was: if you shut off your thoughts - you shut off your emotions along with them. Closing the mind was not easy. It had taken him years to master Occlumency and still he had to be disciplined in ensuring he practised regularly, otherwise the magic would be much more difficult to perform when it was needed, and often it was needed as a matter of life and death. The key to clearing one’s mind was to accept that it was, in fact, impossible. Thoughts would always come. Pushing their way through like crowds of squabbling children. What you had to do was acknowledge them, recognise them for what they were, then push them back. Some thoughts were more stubborn than others, of course.

But whenever he stepped over the threshold of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Severus Snape felt. He felt a multitude of things. None of them were pleasant.

"I can confirm with certainty that Alecto and Amycus Carrow have resumed their positions among The Dark Lord's ranks. As has Antonin Dolohov," Severus said to the members of the Order gathered around the long, wooden table.

"What about Karkaroff?" Bill Weasley, who had stiffened at the mention of Dolohov, asked. Severus had briefly forgotten the man had murdered both of his uncles. Perhaps he should have approached things more sensitively. But there was so much death to keep track of.

"To my knowledge, he is still in hiding," Severus replied, keeping his voice monotone.

Sirius Black, who had been lazily spinning a butter knife on the tabletop all through Severus' report, suddenly stopped. "Your knowledge seems rather limited these days, Snape."

None of the people in this dingy, basement kitchen were facing the same challenge as Severus: none of them knew exactly what the person across from them was thinking. That meant none of them could use that to gain the advantage, true, but equally they didn't have to be subjected to unwanted opinions and the onslaught of self-doubt that came with them. Oh, they all had their insecurities. Especially the young ones like Bill. But none of them faced a constant barrage of doubt and suspicion subconsciously fired at them from all directions whenever they spoke. None of them had it confirmed just how unwelcome they were. Even the ever-hospitable Molly Weasley was secretly glad that he would always refuse her offer to stay for dinner. He should be used to it by now but sometimes it was...wearing.

Severus let loose an exaggerated sigh. "As I've told you before Black, the Death Eaters have returned to operating within small factions to hide their identities, even from each other. It protects against the threat of spies. A threat that turns out to be very real indeed."

"So, what you're saying is...you aren't as useful as you appear?"

Black didn't make eye contact as he made his comment. He didn't have to. His feelings about Severus, which had escalated to murderous even at the tender age of sixteen, were always expressed loud and clear. The rage came quickly. He wanted to react, wanted to take out his wand and send him careening across the room into the blackened pots and pans hanging from the ceiling; he wanted to snatch Mundungus' wine bottle from out of his grubby hands and bring it down right over Black's smug head. He couldn’t do either of those things, of course, but there were other ways to cause damage.

"It's an unfortunate hurdle I have to overcome,” Severus began smoothly. “One that also prevented me from learning the truth about your dear friend Peter Pettigrew all those years ago. Though I'm not sure what your excuse was...being so very close to him and all."

The knife, which despite its bluntness had still been making Severus nervous in the hands of Sirius Black, suddenly clattered to the floor as the man pushed back his chair in anger.

"Now listen here you-"

"Sirius, please."

Ever the diplomat in these situations, Remus Lupin stepped in to place a calming hand on Black's shoulder. It seemed to have the desired effect. Black, sullenness and resentment all over his now haggard features, resumed his place at the table, arms folded across his chest. All eyes were back on Severus now as he finished his report. And through them flowed all their thoughts.

_Such a rude man._

_That was uncalled for._

_Sirius was goading him, but still._

And then, the simplest, but by far his favourite:

_Prick._

The only person he wasn't getting anything from was Lupin himself. Come to think of it, he rarely got anything from him at all anymore. Had he developed some hidden talent for occlumency that Severus wasn't aware of? Unlikely. There probably just wasn't a lot going on in his mind these days.

Regardless, Severus spoke mainly in Lupin's direction when he needed to address the group for the remainder of the meeting, purely so he could focus. When it was over, he gathered his things and swept quickly from the room. Too eager to be out of that house to waste time with false pleasantries.

***

This time the tension was reduced to only a slight gnawing in his stomach. Today he had the support of the one person who trusted him completely. At least, Severus thought he did. The man was an even more accomplished Occlumens than he was.

Headmaster Dumbledore had taken his place, naturally, at the head of the worn kitchen table. Somehow, he managed to bring an air of importance and grandeur to the dusty, run down room which at other times made Severus feel like they were trespassing children playing an elaborate fantasy game.

"Got a nice little tidbit for ya t'day. A right tasty morsel, yessiree," Fletcher was saying.

The Headmaster steepled his long fingers together serenely. "Do share it with us Mundungus, please."

It never ceased to amaze Severus how the headmaster showed endless patience and respect to even the most distasteful of people. But he wasn't fooled. The only reason Albus had saved Fletcher all those years ago was because he saw something useful in him.

So really, he and Severus were one and the same.

"Well," Fletcher began, brushing a strand of scraggly ginger hair out of his eyes to indicate it was time to be taken seriously, "it's the McCoys ain't it? They've only gone an’ expressed a very keen int'erest in some of my, err, darker items."

"The McCoys, really?" remarked Arthur Weasley, sounding shocked. "I remember Angus claiming he was doing their bidding under the Imperious last time, but I always thought he was one of the few telling the truth."

Albus smiled sadly. "I'm afraid I've had suspicions about them for some time now. What items exactly?" he asked, turning back to Fletcher.

"Oh, only the best that's for sure." He used his fingers to begin listing off all manner of horrible things; candles that would slowly poison you, a teapot that gave the drinker homicidal tendencies, even a self-smothering duck-feather pillow. "But mainly they were interested in covert means of transportation."

"I see." Albus nodded thoughtfully before addressing Severus, who was seated to his right. "I believe they have a daughter in your House Severus? Please keep an extra close eye on her from now on."

The judgemental eyes of The Order focused on him again. Here we go.

_In Slytherin? Astonishing._

_No surprises there._

_Everyone in that House should just be expelled and have done with it!_

God. Hadn't any of these idiots heard of the self-fulfilling prophecy? He looked to Remus sitting across from him who appeared to be listening intently. Their eyes met but...nothing. This was starting to become a little unnerving. But he kept his focus there. It was quiet. Calm.

Severus spent the rest of the meeting feeling disturbingly like an anxious, bullied teenager hiding behind a teacher. In some ways he was.

But then, they were all stunted men. Him, Black and Lupin. All of them trapped in the days of their youth. Black carted off to Azkaban when he'd barely hit his twenties, Remus losing his entire support network in one go only to find out that there was no place in the big bad world for the big bad wolf, and Severus...well Severus had escaped a hell of his own making only to be trapped living and working in the school he had only just left. No wonder they each held on to old grudges.

***

Severus never got used to apparating directly back to Hogwarts and he didn’t like having to rely on Dumbledore in order to do so. By the time he had let go of the old wizard’s arm, Severus was in desperate need to be alone. So, it was with great effort that he managed to suppress a sigh at being asked to remain in the Headmaster’s company.

“Please sit down, Severus. I promise not to take up too much more of your time,” said Albus kindly, indicating to the plush, red chair in front of his desk.

Severus sat. “Thank-you headmaster. I must confess I’m feeling rather...drained.”

“Indeed,” remarked Albus, concern flashing from behind his spectacles as he sat down opposite Severus. “I have been a little worried about you as of late.”

“I’m fine, thank-you. I just need some rest.”

“Yes, of course. I shall be direct then.” The Headmaster’s voice became measured, as if he was approaching a subject where he knew he had to tread carefully. “You see, Severus, as you are no doubt aware, I have given Remus a task – one almost as difficult for him as the one I ask of you continuously-”

Severus scoffed. Going native among the werewolves hardly compared to what he had to endure. Albus carried on as if he hadn’t heard.

“-and, I’m afraid to say, I fear he is struggling.”

“Struggling?” asked Severus flatly, one eyebrow raised to indicate his disdain.

Albus gave a small ‘hmm’ of confirmation. “Being exposed to such stress, along with his condition, is taking its toll. He would benefit from your help.”

“You wish me to brew that blasted potion for him again?!” cried Severus, temper flaring quickly as it so often did these days. “Don’t I have enough to do? When I’m not out there risking my life, my schedule is quite packed with teaching! I could do without spending my evenings brewing for that ungrateful-”

“Severus, Severus, please!” Albus held up his hands in a placating gesture. After Severus had let out a frustrated exhale through his nose, he continued. “That is not what I am asking – not this time anyhow,” he added after Severus narrowed his eyes sceptically, “I merely thought you could share with him some of your wisdom. You know better than all of us what it means to be a spy, to play the part...but not lose oneself in it.”

Lose oneself? Could that mean...? He didn’t need to ask. Albus answered his question with just a look.

“So, you wish me to impart some friendly advice upon Lupin? Offer some tips on how to be the perfect spy?”

“Precisely.”

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples. “Of course, Headmaster.”

***

“Lupin, might I have a word?”

Today’s meeting had been a complete waste of Severus’ valuable time and it seemed he was doomed to waste even more of it thanks to Albus. At his words, Lupin had turned to look at him with an expression of surprise etched on his tired face that quickly turned to wariness. Despite this, the man managed to keep his voice irritatingly calm and friendly.

“Of course, Severus. Shall we use my quarters?” His quick reply managed to silence Black who had already opened his mouth, no doubt to question Severus’ intent.

Severus gave a stiff nod in reply and followed Lupin out of the kitchen, conscious that all eyes were upon them. He had already begun to feel the same conflicted feelings he had experienced every time he’d brought that smoking goblet to him each month.He remained behind Lupin as the two of them made their way up a winding, rotten staircase, the bannister of which was carved into an elegant

serpent, until they reached the door to the bedroom which was, presumably, serving as Lupin's quarters for the time being.

Lupin reached out to turn the silver handle, also shaped into the head of a hissing snake. (Severus appreciated the décor but even he thought the Black family had gone a little over-the-top in proclaiming their love of the Dark Arts.) The interior was of similar taste. The only thing that betrayed Lupin's presence was an old, worn-out trunk placed neatly at the bottom of the musty single bed in the corner of the room. Merlin, he hoped Lupin wouldn’t spend too much time trying to engage him in polite small talk like he used to.

But Lupin’s whole demeanour changed once they were alone. He whipped round to face Severus; hands balled into defensive fists at his sides. Those tired, bloodshot eyes seemed to turn redder with anger as he spoke.

“What do you want Severus?”

Alright – no small talk then. Actually, this made things harder. How best to appease a werewolf on the brink? For once, honesty seemed like the best option.

“The headmaster asked me to speak with you. It seems he is...concerned.”

“Oh, he’s concerned?” Lupin muttered bitterly. “Sent you to make sure I’m not caving under the pressure, did he?”

Severus knew he hadn’t treated Lupin well the last time they worked together. But in all those months he had spent subtly berating the man, even after going so far as to force him to resign, Severus had never seen Lupin like this. He had always been passive, spineless even. Open confrontation, no matter how restrained, was not his style. Perhaps the headmaster was right to be worried.

“Are you?”

“Of course not!”

Severus crossed his arms. If Lupin couldn’t handle being challenged, then he certainly could not handle what lay before him. “Really? Because you are looking even more sorry for yourself than usual these days. Bit of a give-away as far as spying is concerned.”

“Forgive me for not living up to your standards of subterfuge!” growled Lupin, voice rising steadily. “Things have not exactly been comfortable for me since you lost me my position at Hogwarts!”

“Don’t act pitiful,” Severus sneered. “You were a danger to everyone at that school! Your own actions proved that.”

“I doubt you are capable of feeling pity for anyone!” Lupin shouted.

Several moments passed as the two men stared each other down. There it was. Lupin had always acted as though he bore no grudge towards him, but Severus had always known that couldn’t be true. The man was just as capable of loathing as he was.

Lupin was the first to look away. He ran both hands through his steadily thinning hair in frustration. Severus suspected it was mostly at himself for losing control, betraying that carefully controlled composure to reveal just a hint of the anger and hatred that lay beneath. Severus knew the feeling all too well.

“When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?” Severus asked before Lupin could open his mouth to offer some half-felt apology.

Lupin let out a humourless laugh. “When did any of us?”

“You are of no use to anyone if you don’t look after your health,” Severus replied sternly, as if he were addressing a struggling NEWT student rather than a fully grown man attempting espionage. He reached into his robes and produced a small, crystal vial. “Here.” Severus held it out to Lupin in his open palm.

Lupin eyed it suspiciously before gingerly picking it up between his thumb and forefinger. “What is it?”

“A simple draught of living death. It should give you at least eight hours of sleep tonight. Dreamless, of course.” Lupin continued to look between Severus and the vial with an anxious mistrust that could only come from the severely sleep-deprived. Severus let out a noise of disgusted impatience. “Take it tonight Lupin. Or do not. It is of little concern to me.”

With that Severus swept from the sparse, musty room, down the rotted stairwell, and out of that godforsaken house.

***

Lupin must be practising Occlumency. Had to be. But for what purpose? Severus doubted anyone among the werewolves was a master Legillimens. And how could he have become so skilled so quickly? It just didn’t make sense.

Though his apparent talent for Occlumency wasn't the only thing about Lupin that was distracting Severus from today's meeting. A side effect of the time he had to spend teaching the skill to Potter was that his dislike for the two men in front of him had intensified to unbearable proportions. Every time he removed those memories, he felt lighter, emptier, more focused. But they had to come back. They always had to come back. And each time they did it was like experiencing them for the first time. More than once Severus had wished that swirling pool would swallow up his memories forever.

“I see little point in continuing, Headmaster. I think perhaps there is too much resentment between us.”

“I rather think you’ll find the resentment is mostly one-sided. You are far more alike than you think you are.”

Severus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the memory of Albus’ words. As he turned his focus back to the present Lupin was clearing his throat to begin his report. He must have taken the potion in the end as he certainly seemed more focused and his eyes were less bleary, though Severus suspected that the bags under them were a permanent feature now.

It did not sound as though his task was going well. Perhaps Severus had been too hasty in judging the difficulty of Lupin’s task. Changing minds had to be more challenging that simply spying and watching surely? He briefly considered what would happen if this was Dumbledore’s next request for him. Have you considered opening up a dialogue with the Muggle Prime Minister, my Lord? Severus smirked at the absurdity of the thought.

“Something to add, Snape?” Black challenged.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Severus would rather the others think him rude than admit his mind was wandering. “Greyback’s request to join the next meeting of The Dark Lord’s inner circle has been granted. Seems he is moving up in the ranks. I will also be in attendance.”

“Of course you will,” Black muttered. Severus chose not to rise to the bait – this time.

Lupin, however, looked as though his interest had been piqued. “He has not made the rest of his pack aware of this, I don’t think. But it makes sense, many of the werewolves remain mistrustful of Voldemort following their abandonment by the rest of his followers after the first war. As for those who have joined the Death Eaters, their loyalty is to Greyback- not him.”

“Yes, it’s quite a bold move on Greyback’s part,” remarked Severus thoughtfully. “Non-humans are not usually permitted in the inner circle.”

Severus almost thought he could taste a mouthful of black leather, that was how spectacularly his foot had just ended up in his mouth. Everyone around the table was glaring daggers at him. He couldn’t help but meet some of their gazes.

Well, that was insensitive.

Probably agrees with his ‘Lord’ fully on that one.

Fucking arsehole.

“Nobody could accuse him of not being bold,” said Lupin, smiling a (fake?) smile. It was impossible for Severus to tell. Again, the only person projecting nothing was Lupin himself.

Arthur Weasley drew the meeting to a close shortly after that. Amongst the scraping of chairs, flurry of open conversation and Molly Weasley’s usual desperate attempt to return some normality to their lives by loudly demanding someone assist her with dinner preparations, Lupin slipped from the room. Severus assumed the man was trying to avoid him until he dipped back through the doorway and indicated for Severus to follow with a brief incline of his head. So, again he found himself traipsing tentatively behind Lupin up the groaning staircase he was certain they would fall through at any second.

“Severus, I must apologise for my behaviour last week. I was not myself.” It seemed as though some sleep was all Lupin needed to allow him to keep up his façade of politeness even when they were alone together.

“On the contrary, Lupin. You were probably more honest than you have ever been.” Lupin at least had the decency to look stunned before stammering to defend himself, but Severus held up his hand to stop him. “Please. Let’s not waste either of our time with apologies or excuses. The potion had the desired effect I take it?”

Lupin hesitated before he spoke, a conflicted expression on his face. “It... did. Thank-you. I’m feeling much better.” Excellent. No need for any further unnecessary interaction then. “In fact,” Lupin continued, “I purchased my own supply from a potions seller.”

“W-which potions seller?” asked Severus after what he supposed was a comical double-take.

“The one in Knockturn Alley,” Lupin answered warily.

Of course. That second-rate swindler was the only one with few enough moral scruples to sell a large quantity of Living Death to someone without approval from a Healer (which one was very unlikely to ever obtain).

“And just how often have you been taking it?”

“Ah...nightly?”

“Then you are either woefully ignorant or just plain reckless! Well? Which is it?” Severus demanded.

“Err-I know one can develop a tolerance but I thought...in the short term...”

“An increased tolerance will be the least of your concerns!” Severus was the one raising his voice this time. It was likely someone would hear him, but he paid that little mind. “Living Death has a long half-life – it builds up in your system!”

“I see...so I should skip tonight’s dose then?”

“Unless you wish to forgo the ‘living’ part and just have ‘death’ I would advise you do just that.”

“Right,” said Lupin, looking extremely alarmed. “Sorry.”

“I would eventually get over it, Lupin, but it would be quite difficult to explain to the headmaster why, after one week of my help, you end up dead,” Severus deadpanned.

Lupin blinked before his face broke into a poorly suppressed smirk. Which turned into a chuckle, then an actual giggle. Soon, Severus was genuinely starting to fear he was having some kind of breakdown as he watched Lupin double over in almost-hysterical laughter. Just when Severus thought he should go and get one of the others, Lupin righted himself and, between dwindling giggles, apologised to him again.

“Hah, sorry.” He wiped tears from his eyes. “It’s just that things have been very stressful – both out there and in here – and, well, it was just good to laugh for a moment.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” said Severus, raising one eyebrow. “If you’re quite finished?”

“You know?” said Lupin, his face fully at ease for the first time in months, “I think he’s right – Albus I mean – I know what I’m doing pales in comparison to you but...I think we’re the only ones with a vague idea of what the other is going through.”

Severus was ready to dismiss him instantly...but then, he had to admit he had seen a lot of himself in Lupin recently. The hyper-vigilance, the twitchiness, the irritability. It didn’t suit him.

And Severus also had to consider – this was something he always knew was in store for him, something he had prepared for most of his adult life. He had had time to fully come to terms with what he was entering in to. Lupin, on the other hand, had simply been picked last minute, an afterthought, purely because he was convenient. No wonder he was turning bitter.

Although their situations were indeed very different, Severus had to admit there were some similarities. Both of them were forced to confront the darkest part of themselves, surrounded by people they could easily have become, had things gone a little differently.

But you chose that life, you’ve nobody but yourself to blame for where you are now, Lupin didn’t have a choice like you did.

As usual, the thoughts he heard that were the most critical were always the ones inside his own head.

In another universe, Severus says all of this to Lupin, who places a supportive hand on his shoulder in sympathy – no – empathy. The two of them, for a brief moment, fully understand each other. Perhaps they even embrace. Past differences left long behind them.

Not this universe, however.

Instead, he cleared his throat after an awkward pause. “If you require a regular sleep aid, Lupin, I can supply you with something less potent you will be able to use nightly.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go to that trouble on my account.”

“No trouble. I shall be brewing it for myself anyway.”

Lupin simply nodded.

***

If Grimmauld Place was a lion’s den, then marching into Malfoy Manor was, by contrast, a walk in the proverbial, peacock filled park. It made little rational sense. The danger here was very real. He risked it all every time he presented himself to the Dark Lord. Was he simply so stubborn that he valued his pride more than his life?

Partly. But lately Severus had come to realise that he felt little hatred for his ‘master’. What he felt was a great deal of fear, a small amount of respect and somewhere, buried deep, a sliver of admiration remained.

Hatred was the most difficult emotion to control, near impossible to block out altogether, and it was always the one Severus lost himself in.

Here, he was able to shut it all off so that he felt very little at all. He was able to take his place at the fine oak table with barely a second thought to the muggle-born family he’d just watched Bellatrix Crucio to within an inch of their lives. (Although he would feel it fully when he returned to Hogwarts and the haze of numbness faded, but he had his calming draught ready.)

If he wasn’t here as a spy Severus doubted very much whether he would have earned his place at the Dark Lord’s side. He had been as ambitious and power-hungry as the rest of them in his youth, but it was nothing compared to the drive he had now. Having nothing left to lose came with its advantages.

As promised, today’s set-up included the werewolf Greyback, who sat defiantly at the furthest end. Though The Dark Lord saw the usefulness non-humans possessed, he usually preferred to have orders trickled down to them through the hierarchy rather than lower himself to dealing with them face to face. And, unlike Lupin, the human part of Greyback was all but gone. He had embraced the wolf in him fully. His face had developed an almost snout-like quality and a permanent snarl seemed to be fixed upon it.

And, again unlike Lupin, there was no sickly tinge to him. Everything about Greyback exuded power. His leather coat strained over his heavy muscle, his powerful shoulders were too broad for Lucius Malfoy’s dainty chairs, and the hands that rested on the delicate wood were curled and claw-like. For some reason, Severus had an image of them wrapped around his tender throat.

“As you can see, we have an honoured guest with us this evening.” The Dark Lord’s gleaming eyes flicked between his followers. All appeared less than impressed by the werewolf’s presence; from Bellatrix, who was all but hissing with open hostility towards him, to Lucius, who was likely most concerned by the scratch marks those claws would leave on his table. “The werewolf Greyback has requested, on behalf of his people, to – ah – discuss terms? Though I believe I have made those quite clear.”

“My Lord,” Greyback began, in a voice as deep and growling as one would expect. (Severus was impressed to note that it quavered with fear only slightly.) “With respect, I have lost many of my kind to this war. Kin who I have personally turned and spent years shaping, showing them how strong they can be, how they need not live under the confines of wizards. We must know it has not been in vain.”

“Indeed, your dedication to increasing your numbers has been nothing but...admirable. Tell us, just how many infants have you overpowered this year?” said the Dark Lord lazily, the irony of the barb apparently lost on him.

Through his haze of numbness, Severus felt a far-off blaze of anger. His mind unwillingly went to Remus – not the adult one he was finding increasingly more sympathetic, nor the adolescent one he harboured so much resentment for, but the Remus he’d never met. The child who must have known so much fear, so much suffering, so much hatred, far too soon. He couldn’t stop his usually impassive face from twitching slightly.

“Not nearly as many as you promised!” snarled Greyback. Clearly, he was a being that did not appreciate being mocked. It was also clear that he overestimated The Dark Lord’s need for the werewolves if he was challenging him so openly.

The Dark Lord smiled but it did not reach those red eyes. That was actually a good sign for Greyback. It meant he would live. For now.

“If it is reassurance you seek, my servant, I am happy to provide this for you. But only once. You will find I do not enjoy justifying myself.” The anger and resentment in the room was palpable. Severus thought Greyback might defy all laws of the moon and transform into a beast right in front of them. But the Dark Lord paid it no mind as he continued. “Those who are loyal to me shall not be forgotten. As I have said, you and you people shall be able to live openly among us. There will be a place for you in our society. You will get what is owed to you.”

Greyback nodded as if satisfied but his clenched fists betrayed him. Severus stared openly at him and, just briefly, they made eye contact. A powerful rage came through to him as well as a desire for vengeance that was so very strong. So strong, in fact, that Severus thought only he himself was inhuman enough to feel such things.

***

He hadn’t been able to see Lupin very often. Between his busy teaching schedule and the need to be cautious regarding how often he was away from Hogwarts Severus wasn’t able to be as involved with Order meetings as he should have been.

But it was as though that each time he had seen the man over the past few weeks he was withdrawing further and further away from the others. The regular sleeping draught – plus the odd nerve-calming potion – Severus was supplying him with was doing little to improve his temperament. It wasn’t unusual for him to glower through meetings and to quickly shoot down the more foolish suggestions. This morning he had already snapped at Kingsley for suggesting patrols of Knockturn Alley should be decreased, glared at Arthur for saying he thought he could slip some muggle tapping equipment into the Minister of Magic’s office, and positively growled at Nymphadora when she spilt a cup of tea onto his lap.

The headmaster had made one of his rare appearances today and, more than once, had given Severus a meaningful look from across the table whenever an incident like this occurred. He sighed inwardly. It seemed that simply palming Lupin off with potions wasn’t what Albus had in mind. He was going to have to talk to Lupin...about his feelings. His lip curled with distaste at the thought. He honestly didn’t know what Albus expected of him. Of the many skills that Severus Snape possessed, being able to provide a sympathetic shoulder to cry on was not one of them.

But, as Lupin threw down the interior plan of the Ministry of Magic in frustration for the third time, Severus realised he had to do something. The current situation just wasn't workable.

"Ah...Headmaster?” He never could seem to get out of the habit of addressing Albus as if they were in a staff meeting. “Could we take a short break? There is something I wish to discuss with Remus privately before we continue.”

It wasn’t an unusual request. Even within the Order of the Phoenix some things had to be kept secret to avoid the risk of information leakage. The reason everyone was staring at him was because it was the first time he had ever called the man ‘Remus’. He hadn’t meant to, it just slipped out.

Albus blinked once behind his half-moon spectacles before quickly covering his surprise. “Certainly Severus, I could use a chance to clear my mind as well. Sirius? Do you think we could use the time to pay Buckbeak a visit?”

Black glared at Severus, but he had no choice than to lead the headmaster upstairs to where the Hippogriff lay. Instead of slinking off to the man’s bedroom again, Severus guided Remus to the library at the back of the house.

Severus had only been here once before, but it was certainly his most preferred part of Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know why the rest of them insisted on using that claustrophobic little kitchen for meetings rather than this room. The velvet chairs, although covered in a thick layer of dust, looked much more comfortable than the ones in the basement. And while some of the subject matter was...questionable at best...some of the books looked like they could be rather useful. Perhaps it was the giant tapestry depicting Gellert Grindelwald magically fixed to the wall that put people off. He picked out a book titled Purity and Power: The Importance of Preserving Magical Blood and examined the cover.

“Well? What is it you need to tell me?” Remus barked. “Has Greyback become aware of my presence among the others?”

“Hmmm? No, nothing like that,” Severus replied, book in hand and still feigning distraction. “I just wanted to give you some time to get a hold of yourself.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Remus, what I’m about to say to you will be difficult to hear, but please know that it comes from a place of deep caring.” Severus began leafing through the pages absentmindedly. “You have become even more of an unpleasant presence at these meetings than I am.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

Severus stopped, still holding onto a page mid-turn, and finally looked at him. “Even I have never come close to making Kingsley Shaklebolt cry.”

“The man was being ridiculous! How could he suggest scaling back patrols at this time?!”

Severus just raised an eyebrow at him before taking out his wand and pointing it at two of the armchairs. The explosion of dust that came off them made Remus sneeze, only adding to his irritation. Severus sat down on one of them and eyed Remus expectantly.

“Please, just tell me what’s going on with you so we can all get back to the task at hand.”

For a moment Severus thought Remus was going to scream at him, but he just collapsed heavily into the other chair with his head in his hands. “Dumbledore is...right of course,” he said eventually. “I am struggling.”

“Well that much is obvious,” Severus remarked. Remus let out a dry, angry laugh but didn’t elaborate. “Is facing what you truly are really so difficult?”

“I’ve never been under any illusion about what I ‘truly am’!” he barked. “The world insists I face it every day I assure you!”

“So, what’s the problem then?” Severus asked, his patience already starting to feel rather thin.

Remus huffed and turned away. After several moments of angry silence Severus was more than ready to admit defeat. ‘Very sorry Headmaster but I just wasn’t up to the task, now if I could go back to charming the psychopaths and the mass murderers?’ But then Remus let out a long sigh before speaking.

“I think...” he began, hesitating despite his anger. “I think my reasoned arguments aren’t working because I... Because I am starting to believe in them less and less myself.”

Severus said nothing. It seemed like the right thing to do. He wasn’t exactly the master of sensitivity and saying anything right now might break whatever spell was causing Remus to open up to him.

“How am I supposed to tell them things will get better without radical change? All my life, Severus, I have struggled. I don’t have much” - He gestured down at his patched-up robes - “and what I do have I’ve had to fight for, but compared them? Compared to them I’ve lived a life of luxury. Did you know I met a girl while I was out there?” Severus – of course – did not know that. He waited for Remus to continue. “Though you would be forgiven for thinking she wasn’t a girl at all, so feral she looked like a beast. Couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16, she should be one of your students right now...

“Anyway, we talked. Or rather we communicated as best we could. She told me that, once, when she was very young, she ran away from home on the night of the full moon. Couldn’t stand how much her transformations upset her parents. She positioned herself near this farm – way out in the middle of nowhere, you know? - thought she could live her life just killing chickens once a month. The farmer – he's a wizard himself so he’ll understand, won’t he? He comes across her that morning when he opens the henhouse, a little girl curled up among the innards, covered in blood, sated expression on her face.

“He puts two and two together pretty quickly and she wakes to him hovering his pitchfork over her chest. She’s a beast so he may as well put her down like one...except...he can’t do it. She looks like a human, an innocent...but he knows the truth. So, he does what any decent member of wizarding society would do.”

“He turns her in,” Severus stated, hoping if he says it firmly enough it’ll make it true.

“No, Severus, he does not turn her in.” A dark shadow passed over Remus. “He chains her up. For the whole month. Nothing to survive on but the entrails even the wolf in her wouldn’t touch. Her parents have no idea where she is. On the rare occasion he does visit her she begs him, tells him she’s sorry, that she just wants to go home. The only thing he tells her is that she’s a monster that needs to be put down.

“So, he waits until the full moon, stays to watch her transform but he just can’t stomach it, so he waits outside. Waits for the screams to become howls. But when he goes back in...”

“She escaped?” asked Severus.

“She’s escaped alright. Fool actually believed silver chains would hold her! But she doesn’t flee. When she wakes up the next morning, she remembers it all. The rage, the power, how good it felt for him to be the one who was afraid of her before she tore him apart in a frenzy. It’s the first time she’s killed a person, but she doesn’t feel any guilt. She knows then that she can’t go back to her family. All the hiding, all the shame, all the fearful looks they thought she was too young to pick up on – she knows now it’s because it’s all true. She is a monster and she belongs with her own kind.”

Severus looked at Remus for a long time. It was not so much that he was stunned – or even surprised – by his story. It was that he knew that whatever words he chose to say to Remus next would be important ones.

“I think I... can understand how she felt.”

“You?” spluttered Remus, “You think you understand?!”

“Yes,” Severus went on, undeterred. “Other people’s expectations of you eventually become your own in the end. If you let them.”

“Is this where you tell me it’s weakness of character that’s my problem?”

“There are many aspects of your character that are weak, Remus. Your inability to assert yourself, having a need to be liked so strong that you turn into a simpering doormat around your worst enemy, but in terms of you managing being a werewolf” - Remus looked up in surprise when Severus didn’t use some euphemism like ‘condition’ or ‘problem’ - “I have to admit that you have always shown a quiet strength in that.”

Remus contemplated that for a while. When he spoke again most of the anger had faded.

“If you were anybody else, I would say you were just trying to make me feel better but coming from you I know it must be true. The man who never sugar-coats anything – not even his potions!”

“Believe it or not, that was my attempt at sugar-coating.”

Remus laughed, his eyes softening for the first time that day. Although they quickly hardened again as he remembered his situation.

“You see what I’m up against, though? How am I supposed to convince people who have lived those kinds of lives not to turn to Voldemort?”

“By telling them the truth. That he is not the one who can bring them the change they seek. That he will abandon them the first chance he gets. Or worse."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus once again comes to Remus in his hour of need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to StoryPlease and my awesome wife Logicgunn for beta reading this chapter! 
> 
> Art by M_Renoir to follow <3

Severus’ journey to become the master Occlumens he was today had been a long one. The training hadn’t required academic work per se, but Severus liked to submerse himself in a subject, and if there was even a slight chance something would give him an edge, he would make sure he knew the material inside out. Hence, he had read every theory on human emotion out there, both the Muggle and the magical. Severus had found that, for once, the muggle ones made the most sense, but even these remained frustratingly…woolly.

In Severus’ view, the only emotion a complex organism really needed in order to survive was fear. Feelings like love, compassion, guilt, pride - these were easy to block out. But fear? This were buried deep within the most ancient and primal part of the human brain, and therefore not so easy to detach oneself from. Indeed, even when his mission forced him to go into a state of pure, unfeeling nothingness (for days on end sometimes) fear would still break through sometimes. During those times, Severus thought he understood was it must have been like to be one of those early, skittering prehistoric creatures we all came from. A never-ending cycle of fight or flight.

Back in Grimmauld Place, his lizard brain was going into overdrive.

“I don’t know where this habit you’ve developed of staying in my house longer than necessary has come from, Snape-” Black spat out as he cornered Severus in one of many dark recesses of the house, “-but I think we would all prefer it if you went back to leaving as soon as the meetings are over.”

Black never missed an opportunity to confront him these days. He was becoming more and more suspicious of him loitering around to speak to Remus with each passing meeting. Not that Severus could really blame him.

“As warm and inviting as your home is, Black, I assure you I never stay longer than necessary,” Severus replied, voice remaining steady even as his right hand slipped into his pocket to grip the handle of his wand. “I still have business with Remus.”

“Just what kind of _business_ could you possibly have with him?” Black snarled, furious eyes boring into Severus’ own.

Severus flashed his nastiest smile in return. “That is none of your concern.”

“If I find out you’re taking advantage of him, Snape, I swear I’ll-”

But Severus was too distracted by what was going on in Black’s mind to pay attention to the rest of his threat. Images were coming through to him. Images that Black must have conjured up during the many hours he had to spend alone…brooding…

All of said visions were of him and Remus in various states of undress. And in all of them Remus was on his back, groaning, while Severus- Merlin, is that really what Black thought his intentions were? It’s not like he ever stayed long enough for them to actually... but then Severus knew only too well how irrational minds could be.

Severus took an incredulous step back from the man and stared dumbly at him. Even if he had heard the full extent of what Black said, he would have been too shocked by what he had seen to think of a witty comeback. But Black, thinking he had succeeded in intimidating Severus, smiled triumphantly.

It was ridiculous of course. Severus would never think about doing something like _that_ with _Remus_ of all people! And even if he had...once or twice...it...it would have been very easy to block out!

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Severus started as the voice of the very person sounded behind him. He found he couldn’t quite look directly at Remus when he stepped into view. He also found that the draughty hallway was becoming inexplicably warm.

“Quite,” Severus said briskly, unable to meet either of their gazes now. “I do have places I would rather be, believe it or not.”

Without worrying about appearing impolite, he stomped off in the direction of Remus’ room. His footsteps were so loud that, in his haste, he almost disturbed the peaceful slumber of the dreaded Mrs Black.

  
  


***

  
  


“Get up your nose a bit, did he?” asked Remus with a smirk as he entered the room. Severus simply turned from him and glared at the scratchy-looking single bed in response. That turned out to be the worst place to glare as Black’s imagination played out before him again - only this time with Severus’ mind adding its own embellishments. “Don’t mind him. He just gets a little overprotective sometimes.”

“There is absolutely nothing you need protecting from as far as I’m concerned!”

“Of course! I know that it’s just- what have you got there? Is that...?”

Severus had produced a large, silver flask from somewhere under his robes and was unscrewing it. Once opened it produced a familiar swirl of blue smoke.

“Wolfsbane. Yes.” Severus held it out to Remus. “After our last conversation, I thought you would benefit from retaining yourself this month.”

“I...” Remus hesitated, brow furrowed in conflict. After a moment, he took a step back from Severus and his potion. There was an apologetic tone in his voice when he spoke again. “Severus this is very kind of you but I think Dumbledore would be against it - and for good reason! Some of the werewolves I’m associating with would be... _unimpressed_ if I did anything to suppress my ‘true nature’. And they would be able to tell. There are signs, you see. Not reappearing covered in bite and scratch marks being the most obvious one!”

“Dumbledore may be brilliant but even he can’t fathom the kind of pressure we’re under,” Severus countered, holding out the potion with a little more insistence. “You will be of no use to anyone if you crumble under it.”

Remus sighed. Reluctantly, he reached out a slightly tremulous hand and took the flask. “Thank-you, Severus,” he said quietly before bringing it to his lips.

“Besides-” Severus began absentmindedly as he watched the movement of Remus’ throat, “-there are other ways to obtain bite and scratch marks.”

Remus snorted half the wolfsbane up his nose but somehow managed to salvage most of the precious liquid. Meanwhile, Severus was, of course, mortified.

“Are you offering your services for that as well?” asked Remus, still sniggering like a schoolboy. “Because I think that would be going above and beyond.”

“I didn’t- get your mind out of the gutter, Lupin!”

It really wasn’t that funny, but Remus had again dissolved into that hysterical kind of laughter known only to someone experiencing temporary relief from extreme stress. Severus was surprised when another voice joined in the laughter; his own.

  
  


***

  
  


“You are deliberately making things difficult for him!” Black said, slapping his hand against the kitchen table by way of punctuating his sentence.

“I can assure you that _I_ am not the one making things difficult!” Severus tried to keep his tone civil in front of the others but, ultimately, failed. “It is as though he is deliberately trying _not_ to learn.”

“Enough! Both of you,” said Albus, holding up a wizened hand between the two of them. The Headmaster seemed to be regretting having asked Severus to report on how Harry Potter’s Occlumency lessons were coming along.

Accusations were flitting around the table towards Severus from all sides – unspoken, of course, but heard by him, nonetheless. He forced himself not to respond, to try and shut off his emotions, not that he should have to do that _here_.

Remus coughed lightly. (His unassuming persona was fully back in place these days.) “Speaking as the only other person here who has had the pleasure of teaching Harry-” Severus broke through the emotional paralysis to give Remus a withering look “-I have to say that his stubbornness can make things very... _challenging,_ at times. I have no doubt that Severus is doing his best under the circumstances, particularly when you consider the other demands placed upon him.”

As Black harrumphed in dismissal of Remus’ words, Severus reflected that even the most talented Occlumens in the world would have had trouble hiding the level of surprise he was feeling at that moment.

His visits to Remus after each meeting had become almost natural to them both. The others remained curious (if not outright suspicious) as to what could have caused them to put aside a decade long grudge, but mostly they had accepted it as something that was becoming a familiar routine. They didn’t always discuss Remus’ work with the werewolves. Sometimes they just conversed about safe, casual topics, always being careful to avoid anything from their shared past, of course. Severus thought it was important for Remus to have someone to talk to other than an increasingly stir-crazed Sirius Black and a bunch of werewolf outcasts. At least, that was how he justified it to himself – anything to avoid admitting he was actually _enjoying_ the time spent with Remus. And that he was finding their talks equally therapeutic.

Next to report was Remus himself, who finally had some good news to share. He had convinced one of the werewolves (a young woman who had recently been rejected by her pureblood family after being bitten) not to follow Greyback and, in turn, not join forces with the Dark Lord. She sounded, to Severus, an easy target, but success was in short supply and the beaming smiles that broke out around the table suggested it was something to be celebrated. Predictably, the Headmaster asked Severus to produce a supply of wolfsbane for her while she was under the Order’s protection. Severus opened his mouth to refuse and remind them all he was stretched rather thin already, but after receiving a pleading look from Remus, he begrudgingly agreed.

“Good on ya, Remus!” Nyphadora said, giving the man a wink along with an approving a nudge with her elbow. “Women are helpless against your charms!”

“Men too, apparently,” muttered Black. He was deliberately not looking at Severus but it was obvious to everyone who the jibe was aimed at.

“Well, I am happy regardless,” said Remus, smiling shyly down at his hands.

Severus excused himself early that day.

  
  


***

  
  


Something was wrong this time. It was written all over Remus’ pale, panicked face. As soon as they entered the privacy of his quarters Remus’ hand gripped hold of Severus’ bicep, voice barely a whisper as he hissed out in fear.

“Severus, I don’t think I can do this anymore!”

Severus shook off his hand. He had no idea what could have rattled Remus so much but it didn’t matter: the man had a job to do.

“You said you would, so you must.”

“It’s not that simple!” Remus turned from him and began to pace across the creaking floorboards.

“Where is that Gryffindor bravery I hear so much about?” Severus taunted, unable to halt the knee-jerk rage towards Remus’ cowardice “Don’t tell me it’s deserted you again, like all those times in the schoolyard.”

“How d-”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know what you were signing up for!” he added, feeling his lip curl up into a snarl. “You are not Black. You aren’t some overgrown child who wants to play at being a war hero!”

“I know what’s at stake!” Remus shouted back. “That’s the problem! I’ve always been willing to risk _my_ life but not someone else’s!” - Severus scoffed causing Remus to stop and stare at him. - “You don’t know what I have to do, do you?”

“What are you babbling on about?”

“The others...” he began, voice nothing more than a whisper, “...my kind...they...they want to begin hunting together...as a pack. To get a taste for what life would be like under Voldemort.”

“In the open?” Severus asked, finding himself whispering back. “They will be killed by aurors in minutes!”

Remus’ pained grimace was becoming more and more pronounced. “I have persuaded them to...to restrict themselves to the woodlands for now. But that doesn’t mean some poor soul won’t wander into their path!” The floorboards struck up another chorus of creaks as Remus resumed his infuriating pacing and began gesturing his arms wildly. “How can I take that risk?! All my life I have made so many sacrifices to avoid blood on my hands. How can he ask me to do this now?!”

Severus knew he could only mean one person.

“Dumbledore? He’s expecting you to go through with this?!”

“Of course he is! He says if all the werewolves side with Voldemort many more will die than I can possibly harm in one night!”

The Greater Good. It was an argument Severus had become very familiar with over the years.

“If you simply take the wolfsbane potion, you will retain all of your faculties.”

“They will be able to tell, Severus!” Remus’ voice was rising along with his panic. “And even if they can’t - what am I to do? Stand by and watch while someone is torn to pieces? Or turned?!”

“Not everyone can be saved. That much I have learned.”

Remus let out an anguished sob and sat down heavily on his tiny bed. He clasped his hands behind his head, eyes wide with horror at whatever his racing mind was playing out before him.

“I cannot. I simply cannot.”

He knew he should still be angry, disgusted even, by Remus’ cowardice. By all of them. They all were happy to fight for all that was good and righteous until it came to getting their hands dirty. How many people had Severus had to stand back and watch die? Too many to recall.

But instead...all he felt was the overwhelming need to spare Remus the same torment.

“You can,” he said firmly, pulling the man up onto his feet. “Listen to me – you’re going take the potion. You will play the part, and you will play it convincingly. I will help you.”

“You-you’ll what? How?”

“I shall follow you. Make sure the area is safe. Make sure no-one gets hurt.”

“How could you possibly do that alone?!”

Severus gave him a half smile. “I won’t be alone.”

  
  


***

  
  


“Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing, Snape!” Black brought his fist down against the arm of the chair in which he sat with force. His eyes were already wild with rage.

“Asking you to help me protect your friend?” Severus offered helpfully.

When Severus first approached him, Black had told him in no uncertain terms to ‘piss off.’ However, once he made Black aware that the matter he wished to discuss with him involved Remus, Severus had been led into a musty drawing-room which he had never seen before. It would have been a rather pleasant room if not for the chill. Apparently, Severus wasn’t worth lighting a fire for. He took a sip from the glass of wine Black had grudgingly produced for him. The fact that Severus hadn’t cast a poison detection charm on it showed the height of trust, as far as he was concerned.

“Trying to get me kicked out of the Order more like!” Black snarled, pointing an accusatory finger in Severus’ direction.

“Come now,” said Severus in his silkiest tone, “since when did you pay any heed to the rules? It never got you ‘kicked out’ of anything. Not even when it was attempted murder.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Snivellus!”

Severus placed his glass down on the once-elegant table that lay between them. “Very well,” he said, going through the motions of standing up but having no intention of actually doing so. “I have asked you for your aid in helping a friend, one whom _you_ should feel far more obligated to than I, but if you’d rather stay in this hovel then so be it.”

“You know perfectly well why I must stay here! I can’t risk being seen! Unless you have a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion with you I’m afraid you’ll just have t-” Black stopped when he noticed the look Severus was giving him. “Of course you have Polyjuice Potion,” he finished bitterly. “You’re the bloody potions master.”

“Indeed.” Severus reclined back in his seat and steepled his fingers, smiling coldly. “So, what’s your next excuse?”

“How about the fact that I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you?”

“All the more reason to make sure I’m not up to no good.”

Severus could see Black working it all over in his mind. Literally and figuratively. He was an easy man to manipulate. Just call his bravery into question and he was had.

“Alright,” he grunted. “When?”

“The night of the full moon.”

“Yes, I had figured that much out for myself thanks! I mean when specifically? I’d rather us sort out the details now so we can limit the amount of time we spend together as much as possible.”

Perhaps Severus would find this more challenging than he first thought.

  
  


***

  
  


The full moon had just so happened to fall on a Sunday night. This was inconvenient as Severus had a full week of teaching ahead of him and could really do with spending the night _sleeping_ rather than traipsing round the Highland countryside after a pack of werewolf zealots with his arch-enemy in tow. It was also inconvenient because it was bloody freezing and said arch-enemy was already ten minutes late. Severus had spent eight of those ten minutes debating whether he should venture into the pinewood forest in front of him alone. He had just started to go over the pros and cons of this from the top again when a man appeared in the middle of a nearby thicket of heather with a loud crack.

He looked just like the muggle man whose hair Severus had swiped from a pub in Dingwall. He was about the same height and weight as Black himself. This meant he wouldn’t have too much adjusting to do while navigating a different body. He even possessed the same long, scraggly hair. It was only when he turned around to reveal his face that Severus was unable to suppress a smirk: the man’s nose was gigantic. And, coming from Severus, that was certainly saying something.

“Something amusing, Snape?”

“No, no, not at all.” The smirk he had failed to suppress was threatening to become an actual _snigger_. “I just can’t help feeling a tad...upstaged.”

“Hilarious. If we could get going?”

Black was already straining against his leash, so to speak. Having been confined indoors for the best part of a year, he was eager to see some action. Too eager.

“We would be in there already if it weren’t for you!” Severus was quick to remind him. “But we must remember to exercise caution. We cannot give ourselves away unless we absolutely have to.”

“Uh huh,” Black muttered as he barged past Severus, heading straight for the dark forest.

It wasn’t difficult to track them down. Just like the man Severus had been forced into choosing as his companion, getting a taste of freedom had made the werewolves throw caution to the wind. He and Black did not have to follow the broken branches and disturbed forest floor for long before they came across the pack. Severus silently thrust his arm out in front of Black to prevent him from getting any closer while he made a quick assessment. There were at least five of them. Their collective yips of excitement filled the air in celebration of a kill.

A stag lay limp on its side on the forest floor, its neck at an unnatural angle, eyes blank and fixed. Three of the werewolves bustled in to begin feasting on the carcass. The two men watched as they tore away chunks of flesh, not with the animalistic glee that Severus would have suspected, but with a strange air of practicality, like this was simply the natural order of things. Of the two werewolves that hung behind, one was snapping at the edge of the crowd, already seeking permission for some discarded scrap of meat. It was met only with a cautionary slash from the too-long limbs of the others. The final werewolf stayed away, stalking back and forth around the pack, seemingly aware of its place in the hierarchy.

It was Remus. Undoubtedly. Although Severus had only seen him in full transformation twice, that scarred snout and those dagger-like teeth were permanently etched into his memory.

“Why did Remus not attack Potter if he was a stag?” whispered Severus as he watched the beasts, the need for understanding outweighing his reluctance to speak to Black unnecessarily.

“Because we were a pack,” Black replied, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world and Severus should really be keeping up.

Severus sighed quietly at the vagueness of his answer and made a mental note to ask Remus about it sometime.

“Hopefully this will keep them busy for a while,” he observed.

Black made a dismissive noise. “Hmmph, not likely. If these lot are anything like Remus used to be, they’ll be distracted by the next rabbit that skitters past.”

Sure enough, the small-yet-ambitious werewolf had sensed something. It froze in place suddenly, head low, one elongated limb raised in preparation to run. The others abandoned what was left of their kill and turned in the same direction. In a flash of bounding limbs, they were gone, racing through the trees and disappearing.

“They’re heading to the edge of the forest.” Although he was wearing a stranger’s face, the expression of excited determination that crept over it undoubtedly belonged to Sirius Black.

“We’ll follow from a distance,” Severus began. “If Remus signals then- what do you think you’re doing?!” One moment he had been talking to a distinctly profiled man, the next a large, shaggy black dog. They hadn’t been sure whether Black would even be able to use his Animagus ability when under the effects of Polyjuice. Regardless, Severus had made Black swear that he wouldn’t pick tonight to test the theory. “We talked about this!” Severus hissed. “Change back this instant!”

Black just gave him a low, teeth-bearing snarl in response and sprung off in the direction of the werewolves. Severus let out his own growl of frustration as he took to the sky in a burst of dark smoke.

He did not enjoy using this ability – it was dangerous, difficult to control and required extreme focus. (Not to mention it made him feel far too connected to The Dark Lord.) But when the need arose it was useful. Severus could see far ahead to where the pines ended, and the moors began. The werewolves streaked along in a blur after a second group of deer that must have come down from the hillside to escape the cold. They were quick, every instinct telling them to flee from the monstrous creatures, but there was always one that just wasn’t quick enough.

The werewolves snarled and snapped their frothing mouths at a panicked young buck. Working as one, they began to split it from the rest of the herd. Unfortunately, the direction they were steering it to was getting dangerously close to a small Muggle settlement. If the creatures got wind of that, the small deer would not hold their interest for very long. It sounded as though Remus had realised this also as he stopped to let out two short, high-pitched howls: the signal.

Severus could only watch from his great height as the howls were answered by a loud, angry barking. The shaggy dog had finally caught up with the huge creatures and stopped to announce his presence. Black was just as idiotic in canine form. He might have been a match for Remus back in their school days, but did he really think he stood a chance against five fully-grown werewolves?

All the werewolves stopped in their tracks, some skidding to a halt in their haste to identify the sound. The buck must have been unable to believe its good fortune as it bolted out of sight, securing its escape. Meanwhile, the werewolves exchanged angry growls with the dog that was bold and foolish enough to encroach on their newly claimed territory.

And then – Black ran.

So that was his plan; to lead back to the forest and lose them amongst the trees within. Severus wished he had shared it with him earlier. Then he would have had the pleasure of informing Black of all the reasons why it _would not work_. Even if Black-the-dog wasn’t completely out of shape following a year of indoor living, the sheer length of the werewolves already put them at an advantage for speed despite the head start he had on them.

From the skies, Severus swirled and weaved above them, casting spell after unseen spell at the beasts to slow their movements. Once the dog was safely in the trees he cried out ‘ _Silva Obice!_ ’. Immediately the ancient pine trees began to fold, twist and bend in towards one another, sending out thunderous, echoing creaks into the night.

The werewolves snorted and snarled as they scratched at the impenetrable barrier. Severus wouldn’t be able to hold it for long, and certainly not while maintaining unsupported flight.

He landed a safe distance away. Although he was unlikely to be spotted from his position, Severus had no time to appreciate having his feet back on the ground. He needed a new plan. Soon they would begin to move around the forest’s perimeter to try and find a way inside. Once there, it wouldn’t take them long to locate Black’s scent and track him down. They needed yet another distraction.

Severus gritted is teeth and tried not to think too much about the consequences of what he was about to do.

“ _Expectro Patronum!_ ”

Considering the life that Severus Snape had led, one could be forgiven for thinking that he would be unable to produce a Patronus. Or that if he could, he would find it immensely difficult. But the truth was he had mastered it easily. His happy memories, though few and far between, were well played and heavily practised in his mind.

Suddenly he was feeling the wind in his hair as he swung in the park with Lily, the sun as it streamed onto their faces while they lay side by side under the trees, the rush of elation her triumphant smile gave him when they mastered a tricky potion together. And this time, a new and much more recent memory pushed its way in to join them: Remus smiling a kind smile at him, laughing at one of his biting comments, and the feeling of being seen after a very long time spent hiding.

The memory took him by surprise. But it was best to just go with whatever came naturally when producing a Patronus. So, he indulged it. When the light shot out of his wand it seemed brighter and more beautiful than ever. The doe danced around the werewolves, grabbing their attention instantly. The creatures gave chase and were soon being led away into the hills.

Well...not all of them. Momentarily forgetting the role he was supposed to be playing, Remus had stopped, transfixed by the image of the silver doe retreating into the distance. The smallest werewolf noticed its equal’s hesitation and, almost at the same time, noticed Severus also.

At that moment, another, far less pleasant memory overtook Severus. In an instant, he was sixteen again. A blur of teeth and muscle and blood-matted fur stampeded towards him. And, just like when he was sixteen, Severus simply froze in place as death approached. But there would be no ‘remorseful’ James Potter coming to save him this time.

Rabid teeth and sinewy limbs collided as Remus rammed into the other werewolf’s path. The two beasts fought and struggled for dominance over who would claim the kill. Severus watched it play out, powerless in his all-consuming fear.

Remus eventually won. The other werewolf let out a strangled yelp as he chased it off with a final swipe of his powerful claw. But it didn’t go far, hoping it would be pitied it and allowed its share of the spoils in the end. When Remus turned around, Severus feared he had made a mistake with the wolfsbane, such was the strength of the rage that shone behind those glowing, yellow eyes.

Then, Remus sunk his teeth into Severus’ neck.

Or at least...he appeared to. Remus was on top of him, jaws latched on tight but not pressing down hard enough to break the skin. The weight of his body was heavy, but not enough to crush him. The smaller werewolf lost interest, perhaps deciding there wasn’t enough of Severus to make a decent meal for two and went off in search of the rest of the pack. They stayed that way until the coast was clear. Bizarrely, Severus felt safe and warm under that wiry fur.

  
  


***

  
  


“Is it your mission in life to see me torn apart by a werewolf, Black?!”

There were no further incidents that night. Whatever the pack came across in the hills after the Patronus disappeared must have kept them occupied because Remus did not signal for help again. Either that or all the running around had tired them out. All in all, it was a successful mission. But Severus was still feeling bitter about how certain parts of it had gone.

“I’ve already explained myself and I won’t do so again!” Black’s own face was back in place and its usual look of loathing along with it.

At the first sign of dawn, the two of them had apparated back to Grimmauld Place. Outside its heavy gates was where they were currently having their argument.

“Evidently your explanation was not satisfactory! You should count yourself lucky that-”

A crack in the air announced Remus’ arrival. He bent over in the middle of the road, hands on his knees and breathing heavily.

“Remus!” exclaimed Black with a grin. “You’re back early. That was almost like old times wasn’t it?”

Remus didn’t answer, just staggered towards them wearing a grimace of pain. It was then Severus caught sight of the blood darkening his shirt. Black hadn’t noticed as he was too distracted by Mundungus Fletcher, who was staggering even worse than Remus, coming out of the house to meet them.

“Wher’ tha bloodeh ‘ell did you get ta?” he slurred at them.

“Mundungus!” hissed Black, “Get back inside! You’ll wake the muggles!”

“What is _he_ doing here?” Severus asked, one arm supporting an exhausted and possibly bleeding out Remus.

Black narrowed his eyes in Fletcher’s direction. “ _He_ is the reason I was late. Decided to pay me a visit last night. Had to get him passed out drunk so I could leave. Looks like he woke up and carried on without me.”

“Ah’ll do wha’ ah bloomin ‘ell LIKE!” Fletcher bellowed, shaking a fist vaguely in their direction.

“Alright, alright,” appeased Black. “Let’s get you back inside.”

They disappeared into the house, leaving Severus and Remus to make their own way inside. Somehow, with a little grunting from Remus and a lot of help from Severus, they made it upstairs to his room.

“I’m okay,” Remus assured him, smiling through the pain as Severus eased him onto the bed. “It looks worse than it is.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Take your shirt off please.”

Wicked claw marks stretched across the left side of his abdomen. The wound was deep, but it looked as though the worst of the bleeding had stopped. Though not yet life-threatening, it could soon become so if it got infected. Not to mention the scarring it would leave if not treated quickly.

Severus set to work immediately. He lay out the emergency tools he always carried with him and enlarged them wordlessly. To his careful arrangement he added several potion vials. Remus lay on the bed, amber eyes following Severus’ every movement until he began to swab the wound with an antiseptic potion during which Remus hissed and had to shut his eyes tight against the sting. Severus was hovering another vial of potion over him when he opened them, blinking back tears.

“Dittany doesn’t work on wounds inflicted by a werewolf,” he helpfully informed Severus.

“I am aware of that, Remus, which is why it’s a good thing this isn’t dittany.”

Each gash starts to inch closed slowly as Severus poured the clear liquid over Remus’ chest. They close even more as Severus starts to hum a healing incantation, hovering the tip of his wand close to the skin in front of him. Although he is focused on the task at hand, he doesn’t miss the way Remus’ eyes widen in wondrous disbelief. Severus feels a sense of pride as he steps back to judge his work: not fully healed but he has certainly kick-started the process. So much so that Severus decides the wound does not need to be dressed and starts to put his equipment away.

“That’s incredible. What is it?” asked Remus.

“Just something of my own creation.”

“You should be working for St. Mungos creating healing potions!”

Severus smiled at the thought. “In another life perhaps.”

Something unspoken passed between them as they looked at each other. Another life. One with no war, no hatred based on blood, no curses under the moonlight.

“I’ll check on the wound in a few days,” said Severus, turning away quickly and vanishing his belongings with a flourish. “In the meantime, if you experience any fever, shortness of breath, nausea, or sense of impending doom then-”

Remus gives him a tired smile before closing his eyes. “Then I know who to call.”

  
  


***

  
  


As promised, Severus arrives early for Thursday’s meeting to check Remus’ wound. The others had already begun to arrive, and he narrowly avoided Molly Weasley’s offer of a quick cup of tea and a chat. (Those always turned into a makeshift parent-teacher evening with her not-so-subtly enquiring about her children’s performance in Potions.) He made his way silently up to the increasingly familiar bedroom.

Remus leapt up at Severus’ entrance, tossing the book he was reading behind him without seeing where it landed. He seemed livelier than when Severus last saw him that was for sure. Straight away, Severus asked him to remove his shirt and then had to ignore a series of taunts about being ‘very forward’ and how most people ‘offered to buy dinner first’.

The wound looked clean, wasn’t warm to the touch, and the edges were coming together nicely. As Severus felt a tension leave his body he reasoned it was simply due to the fact that he could cross off playing nursemaid to Remus as one of his many duties.

But as Remus redressed, Severus couldn’t help but entertain the notion the man had put into his head the other day. Healing magic and potions interested him more and more the older he got. If, by some miracle, he got out of this war alive then perhaps it was something he should pursue further. On the other hand, perhaps he would have had enough of fixing things by then. It already felt like his life had become one long counter curse.

“How are you, Severus?” Remus asked gently.

“I’m not the one with a giant gash across my chest so I’d say I’m fine,” Severus said, wiping away the thoughtful expression that must have crossed his face.

Remus gave him a knowing look and patted the space next to him on the bed in invitation for Severus to sit next to him. Reluctantly, he obeyed.

“You actually sleep on this thing?” Severus asked. He could feel the springs dig into him even through the thick, wool blanket.

“I’ve slept in worse places, believe me.”

Severus waited for the questions that would inevitably come. Remus had seen his Patronus. The Patronus he had always denied being able to produce when asked why he never used it for long-distance communication. He knew Remus must have put two and two together by now but he didn’t think he could stand the humiliation of it actually being put it into words. It would be unbearable if he voiced the fact that the love for his childhood friend was the one driving force in his life. It was a love that went beyond the romantic or the familial. And it was the only love he’d ever had to cling on to.

Remus cleared his throat. “Listen, I know you aren’t good at this kind of thing but...I just want to say how much I appreciate your help the other night. That can’t have been easy for you and I’m sorry I had to...anyway what I’m trying to say is thank-you and I want you to know that if _you_ ever need any help with anything or just some support then I-”

“Yes, thank-you Remus. I’ll know who to turn to if I ever have the burning desire to pour my heart out to somebody.”

Just like that, Severus had successfully shut down any sort of open communication about his feelings with sarcasm. They slipped into silence.

“Do you think Dumbledore is aware of what we did?” Remus asked eventually.

“I doubt it,” Severus replied stiffly. “He is extremely preoccupied with other matters.”

More silence.

“How are Harry’s lessons coming along?”

“Slowly.”

“Must be quite draining for you...”

Severus sighed. He knew what Remus was doing. Trying to get him to talk about his feelings without _actually talking_ about his feelings.

“Alright Remus,-” a harshness that was beyond his control slipped into Severus’ voice “-you want to know how I am? I’m scared. Potter was supposed to have had much more success by now but he is making no effort! If he continues to only half-succeed in blocking his mind this will only further alert the Dark Lord to their connection, who will waste no time in finding out who has been helping him. And he _will_ find out. A quick peek into Potter’s mind will be all he needs.

Every time he summons me, I am convinced that my time is up! That I won’t have a chance to actually make a difference in this war or...or atone for my mistakes.”

“Severus...”

He didn’t notice his hands were shaking until Remus had enclosed his own around them. Severus looked up, alarmed, but didn’t pull away from the touch. Already he could feel the warmth coursing through his body, every fibre of him craving connection with another person, just for a moment…but that wasn’t a luxury he could afford. Nor one deserved.

He tried to move away but Remus reached out and pulled him back. He tilted Severus’ face upward, forcing him to make eye contact. There, just for a moment, it felt like there was something behind the bright amber. Some thought trying to come through to him. But the more Severus reached for it the more it slipped away like the details of a distant dream or the name of a long-forgotten friend.

Once Remus brought his lips to his there was no stopping it. Suddenly they were all crashing mouths and grasping limbs. That shirt came off again and Severus found himself helping Remus tear at the buttons of his own robes in desperation to feel someone else’s skin, heat, _life_ against his own.

Severus was dimly aware of the usual sounds of the house getting ready for a meeting drifting up to them; the scraping of chairs, the muffled conversations, Mundungus’ raucous laughter at one of his own jokes. Aware they should be using a silencing charm, but that neither one wanted to pull away from the other long enough to perform the spell. So, they just tried to quieten their ragged breathing as best they could.

Then all Severus could hear was the sound of his own moans and Remus whispering at him to be quiet. But he couldn’t help it. What he felt was so very _loud_.

  
  


  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets come to light and the Dark Lord begins to lose his patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to LogicGunn for beta reading <3

The illusion of transparency is a fancy name given to what is, for most people, an everyday experience. (Muggle social scientists really did seem to enjoy making things needlessly complicated.) It seems that people overestimate how much their inner thoughts and emotions are obvious to those around them. This occurs most often when said thoughts and emotions are intense. The reverse is also true: people tend to overestimate how much they understand what’s going on in someone else’s head far better than they actually do. It is a cause of many a miscommunication as well as a lot of unnecessary stress. It was also something Severus was usually spared from experiencing. Being able to know exactly what was going on in someone else’s head at any given time, whether he wanted to or not, came with its advantages.

But today. Today was different. Rationally he knew it wasn’t possible – if everyone at this meeting knew about the frantic, unexpected, life-affirming sex that he and Remus had just had, then surely some of them would be thinking about it. Therefore, surely, some of those thoughts would be visible to him. The fact that they weren’t strongly suggested they were safe. However, Severus’ usual rationality was failing him as he convinced himself that every member of the Order seated around the table was intimately aware of their, ah, intimacy.

In reality, the only person looking at Severus intently as he rambled through his unsubstantial report (filled with several uncharacteristic ‘errs’ and awkward pauses), was Sirius Black. It wasn’t the usual look filled with pure loathing either, but one that suggested Severus was being assessed in a new light. He didn’t intend to find out what conclusion Black reached, though, as Severus planned to avoid any and all eye contact until he could get away from all these people and calm himself down. Before Alistor Moody had gotten to the end of his usual rant about ‘constant vigilance’ until the next meeting, Severus was already halfway towards the door.

“Snape! Could I have a word with you before you leave?”

Black’s voice rang out over the hustle and bustle of the others getting up to leave, as well as the loud conversation coming from the usual suspects oblivious to the concept of overstaying their welcome. Severus thought it unwise to pretend he hadn’t heard. He would just have to accept Black’s (for once justifiable) anger towards him for behaving so appallingly in his home and hope he didn’t scream at him in front of the others.

Thankfully, public humiliation didn’t seem to be on the cards as Black lead him through into the same small sitting area where they plotted coming to Remus’ aid a few nights ago. The hubbub of Grimmauld Place faded as he closed the heavy door behind them.

“I need you to do something for me,” Black said as he walked purposefully over to the once-magnificent writing desk in the corner of the room. He fished around its contents until he found some yellowed parchment and a quill that was missing most of its feathers.

Severus’ anxiety was slowly starting to abate, biting sarcasm quickly filling its place. “I don’t recall running errands for you as being one of the many duties I perform for this organisation.”

“Don’t worry Snape, I won’t be wasting any of your precious time,” Black snapped, beginning to scribble on the parchment. “I just need you to deliver this letter to Harry.”

“You are literally wasting my time right now by asking me to deliver a letter you have not even composed!” Severus huffed. “Can you not use an owl, like everyone else?!”

“I don’t want to risk it being intercepted! Just give me a minute you-” Black began to mutter under his breath. He was still hunched over the writing desk which meant Severus couldn’t quite hear what name Black had called him, but he imagined he’d heard it all before.

After a few moments, which Severus spent loudly tapping his foot on the floor, Black turned to face him, sealed letter in hand.

“What is this about?” asked Severus. Not that he really cared, but if Black was encouraging Potter to do something reckless then Severus certainly did not want to be involved.

“That doesn’t concern you. It’s enough that you know it’s important,” Black said in a dismissive tone.

“And just why are you suddenly trusting me with something like this?” Severus asked, looking at the letter as if it might bite him. In fairness, if they had still been schoolchildren, it probably would have.

Before Black could answer, the door opened and Remus slowly peered around it, face full of concern. “Is everything alright in here?” he asked.

“Fine thanks Remus,” chirped Black, stuffing the letter into Severus’ hand. “Sn- Severus has just agreed to deliver a message to Harry for me.”

Remus stepped fully into the room and Severus immediately took a great deal of interest in the worn-out carpet at his feet. “What sort of message?”

“So bloody nosy the pair of you! Can’t I let my Godson know I’m thinking of him?”

“Well, yes, of course. I just-”

“Excellent!” Black’s unwelcome hand came to rest on Severus’ shoulder and guided him firmly towards the door. “Let’s not keep Severus from his busy schedule any longer. Unless you two haven't quite finished your mysterious business upstairs?”

Severus took that as his very welcome cue to leave.

***

The sun was setting over Hogwarts, bathing the grounds in a comforting glow. At this time of the day, the black lake was a hue of burning pinks, its smooth water disturbed only by the faint ripples made by the occasional Grindylow coming up to feed. The laughter of passing students could be heard over the enthusiastic shouts of the Gryffindor quidditch team as they began their evening practice.

Severus was unaware of all of this as he sat in the darkness of his office deep within the dungeons. The light from a few flickering candles only served to make the room seem more oppressive as it cast great, elongated shadows upon the walls of all the various vile things he kept in jars around him. But Severus’ focus was only on Black’s letter. He stared down at it while turning it over in his hand, hoping that if he gazed at it intensely enough he would be able to see through it and sift through its contents as if it were a mind open for his perusing.

He could, of course, just open it. After making sure there was nothing untoward written in code in amongst the sickly sentiments, he could magically reseal the letter and Potter would be none the

wiser. Black hadn’t even placed a protective ward upon it. Such was the strength of his new-found trust in Severus, it seemed.

He could, but he didn’t. Some arbitrary sense of morality stopped him.

A sudden knock at the door broke his trance. Two succinct thuds. No more than was necessary for the boy to announce his presence.

“Enter.”

The door creaked on its hinges and opened slowly. Then, just as slowly, Potter stepped inside.

Every muscle in the boy’s body was tensed: ready for a fight before they had even begun. Severus had long stopped expecting a ‘good evening’ or even a respectful ‘sir’ of acknowledgement from him. But what had he ever really expected from the son of James Potter? Other than arrogance and entitlement, obviously. As soon as those painfully familiar green eyes met his, the usual torrent of abuse flooded towards him.

Bet you made me miss Quidditch practise on purpose, you petty git.

Ron’s right: you aren’t helping me at all! You’re probably just opening my mind up to Voldemort even more!

Evil. You’re fucking evil.

“Sit down, Potter!” Severus spat, unable to keep a rush of defensiveness from flowing through him.

The boy sat down hard in the chair on the other side of Severus’ desk and folded his arms roughly. Brat.

“Here.” Severus brandished the letter at him without bothering to hide his sneer.

Potter looked at it suspiciously. “What’s that? Sir?”

“A letter, Potter,” Severus drawled. “Surely you’ve received some in the past? Or do you prefer to call it fan mail?”

As he got older, Severus had set some boundaries for himself. He tried not to hold people responsible for the things they thought about him. They were just thoughts, after all, private ones at that. Something every person was entitled to. It wasn’t as though they were aware that Severus could see them. But, with Potter, he couldn’t help fighting back. Old habits died hard.

“I meant who is it from,” Potter said through gritted teeth. “Sir?”

“Your godfather. Some touchingly paternal words I’m sure,” replied Severus.

Potter’s eyes widened with surprise as he took the letter but he neither opened it nor put it in his pocket. He just held it out in front of him stupidly, as if he was being tested on something but didn’t know what.

Severus tutted. “Open it now, Potter. You shall only be distracted from your task if not, goodness knows it doesn’t take much...”

Potter spared him an insolent glare before tearing open the letter. Severus watched him carefully as his eyes darted back and forth over the words. His brow became more and more furrowed in confusion the further down the page he got.

The real reason Severus had instructed Potter to open the letter there and then was so he could learn its contents through reading his mind. Not directly. Potter now knew the signs too well not to notice active Legillimency – not matter how subtle Severus was. At least he had been able to teach the boy something. But if whatever was in that letter caused Potter to feel strong emotions, particularly if those emotions were about Severus himself, something was sure to trickle through to him.

Strange, then, when it didn’t.

Potter was certainly thinking something about him, the apprehensive yet quizzical look he was being given told Severus that much. And yet, Severus heard none of his thoughts. Was the boy getting better at Occlusion than he realised? But Severus felt no sign of a mental barrier. Then, something slipped through.

Doesn’t change the fact he’s a git, though.

Severus spent the rest of their Occlumency lesson wondering WHAT didn’t change the (admittedly true) fact that he was a git. Just what had Black written about him?

Ironically, it was their best lesson yet. Not only was Severus distracted so that Potter didn’t have to contend with the full strength of his focus, but the boy also seemed to be more open to listening to what Severus was telling him.

“I think we’ll end it here today, Potter,” Severus said, unable to disguise his breathlessness. He swiped a sweat-soaked strand of lank hair out of his eyes. After he’d fully composed himself, Severus was surprised to see Potter still standing there watching him. Usually he was out the door before he was even fully dismissed. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Potter shook himself. “Yes, Sir, sorry!” And with that, he scurried out of Severus’ office.

Severus gaze lingered on where the boy had stood long after he had gone. An uneasy feeling washed over him – and not just the one associated with what he had to do next.

The Pensieve emitted an eerie glow from across the room. As he walked over to see his own memories swirling within it, Severus had to fight off the same ideas that plagued him every time. That he could just...leave them in there. That he’d be better off without them. He knew vaguely that they were important, that they were about Lily, but the details remained elusive. What he did know for certain was that they were bad - full of shame, guilt and impossible anguish.

But curiosity won out, as it always did.

Severus raised his wand and, slowly, placed the memories back into his head one by one. He had to brace himself against the desk with the impact of feeling that came with them. Pain so strong he almost thought he couldn’t bear it. Mercifully, it receded to a dull ache once the memories found their rightful place within his mind. A lesser man would have sunk to his knees and wept.

All the years spent numbing himself made it easy for Severus to compose himself. Bury it. Move on. As he stood up a little straighter and adjusted his sleeves, he noticed that there was one more memory swirling around in the basin. It was then he recalled that - this time – there had been something else that had joined the ranks of Things That Harry Potter Must Not See and had to be placed in the Pensieve. This memory was newer and had a very different energy to the rest. Some highly classified Order information most likely. He extracted it in a fluid motion and placed it back in his head.

Severus inhaled sharply as his stolen moment with Remus came back to him in full force. After the initial shock faded, he let out a groan of embarrassment. This complicated things immensely.

Still, it was a memory he was glad to have back.

***

“That can’t happen again.”

The words were out of Severus’ mouth before that heavy bedroom door had time to slam shut. Remus opened his own to respond, but whatever he was going to say caught in his throat before it could be formed. His jaw set firm, eyes grew determined, and Severus knew what he was doing: pushing his emotions aside. It was something they were both going to have to do for the time being.

“O-of course,” he said finally.

They continued their interaction – business as usual – keeping a more-than-respectable distance apart from one another. After a few cursory enquiries about Remus’ health, Severus made to leave.

“Well, if there’s nothing else.” Severus had turned away and was already mentally preparing his excuses for Dumbledore as to why he would no longer be assisting Remus.

“Actually, Severus, there is something you should know.” Remus reached out a hand to stop him from leaving but snapped it back before they touched. “I’m - ah - going to be away for a while...”

Severus whirled round to face him. “Away? Where?”

“We - they - are moving further underground. They have found a cave system that is very much to their liking. They want to start living as a pack full-time and I...” Remus took a deep breath, “...well I have no reason to say no.”

“I...suppose so.”

“So, I won’t be in communication with you all for a while.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to announce it at today’s meeting but I...I wanted to let you know first.”

Severus shuts off the emotion as soon as it comes. But he can’t pretend that, for a moment, it was there. So much of it. Elation, fear, longing, - all fighting for dominance over which one would twist his gut the most.

***

The brewing process had reached a critical stage, adding the aconite, and Severus was furiously debating with himself.

During his time underground, Remus had managed to convert another lycanthropy-inflicted woman into the Order’s protection. Because this one was elderly, Severus had to create her wolfsbane potion with even more care than usual. Based on her age, and the fact she appeared extremely malnourished due to her many years spent homeless, her body would likely be unable to cope with its usual potency. Creating enough toxicity to hinder the wolf without harming the human was both a skill and an art.

It wasn't something that usually fazed him, but then, up until recently, he'd only had experience brewing the potion for Remus. He knew how to make it for him off by heart: four petals, crushed twelve times, added as soon as the water (which must be touched by the light of the full moon) began to boil. But he wasn't brewing for Remus this time.

The first few bubbles were just beginning to rise to the surface, the time to act was now, and yet still he hesitated. Should he add two petals or three? Two may not be enough to still the wolf but three might kill the woman. As the bubbles became a fast, angry hiss of rising steam, Severus quickly tore off half the third petal, mashed it into a pulp and added it to the cauldron.

The water stilled into a cool violet. Yes. That looked right. Fine.

An earthy smell filled the air as he began to shred the valerian root, cool against his stained fingers. He'd have to adjust all the other ingredients to compensate for the reduction. Weigh. Remove. Weigh again.

What was Remus doing right now? Was he safe? Severus couldn't imagine what it must be like for him in that cave.

The potion simmered. Midnight blue. Spicy and herbal from the dittany. Severus caught himself just in time before he added the powdered silver too soon. What was he thinking?! Five counter-clockwise stirs first!

It took all his effort, but Severus managed to focus enough to produce a potion that would not kill a little old lady. He decided to take a break before starting on Remus' batch.

***

He delivered the potion later that evening. First the older woman, whose name turned out to be Jemima. She eyed him with mistrust as she took her first sip, face becoming more wrinkled than it was already at the taste.

Next, the younger one. Little miss not-so-pure of blood any longer. Severus had met her in this capacity three times now. Although he had never caught her name as she always dissolved into floods of ugly tears whenever she saw him, clutched hold of the front of his robes as he hands her the vials - one for each night of the full moon - and spouted garbled words of gratitude at him.

And, finally, Remus himself. It was the only time Severus ever saw him these days. Naturally they retreated to the privacy of the drawing-room. Purely to talk, of course.

"And you are sure they do not suspect?" Severus asked, eyeing the fresh cut on Remus' left cheek.

"Not a thing," he replied with a grin as he took his vial. "Seems I play the part of rabid werewolf rather well."

"You've had years of practice getting into character," Severus observed dryly. "And you're sure you don't need any more help from myself and the mutt?"

"No, no, I think I can handle them now. I've gotten quite good at distracting them when we're out and about." Remus collapsed onto the threadbare sofa and groaned happily. "Aaah, it's good to sit on something other than a rock."

Severus remained standing and narrowed his eyes at him. He wasn’t letting Remus change the subject that quickly. "Are you sure you're not just being...martyrish?”

"Honestly, I'm not,” he replied, tone deadly serious despite his casually splayed posture. “I've decided - if I need to blow my cover in order to save a life, I shall do it. Dumbledore will understand.”

Severus wasn’t so sure he would, but decided not to shatter Remus’ illusion just yet. For now, the answer satisfied him.

"Any more of those anywhere else?" Severus asked, gesturing towards the gash on Remus' face.

"You're just trying to get me to take my shirt off again."

Severus felt his face grow hot. “I am merely inquiring as to the state of your health!”

“I’m perfectly well, thank you,” replied Remus with a chuckle. “Oh, sit down, will you? You’re making me nervous!”

The only other place to sit in the room was an armchair that had so much stuffing missing from its seat, Severus feared he might fall through into the springs below. With an intake of breath, he sat stiffly down next to Remus.

“How long are you staying?” Severus asked.

Remus sighed. “I can only spare a few hours. Any longer and questions will be asked.”

“And why aren’t you making the most of them by spending time with your schoolyard chum?”

Remus ran a hand over his unshaven face. He hesitated a moment before something, perhaps the very real threat of death that lay in wait as soon as he left this house, spurred him on. “Because lately...when I’m out there...I find my thoughts turning to you more and more.”

Severus tried and failed to fight down a burst of exhilaration.

"You know...” Remus laughed softly as he continued, “...if anyone told me a year ago there would come a time that I would miss Severus Snape's company...well, I wouldn't have believed them that's for certain."

"The feeling is entirely mutual, Remus."

"Are you saying you miss my company also?"

"A bit...perhaps."

Remus' lips were tilted into a half-smile...so very close now. Severus could feel the warmth of his breath against his neck, could smell his familiar scent, tinged pleasantly with the outdoors. He lifted

a hand automatically to create some distance between them, but it ended up coming to rest in the centre of Remus’ chest.

"Can't we just have this?" Remus breathed against him, a pleading note in his voice.

Severus should stop. He should just shut off, pull away and leave. Now. But...he really didn't want to. Was having something to cling on to in the midst of all this chaos really so bad?

So, Severus did something he hadn't done for years: he gave in. To need, to that desperate mouth, to wanting, to the firmness of bodies pressed hard together, to selfishness, to rough hands sliding under robes, to gasps of pleasure as lips were taken between teeth, to-

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

-being caught in the most compromising of positions.

It was just like one of the scenes from Black's imagination he had involuntarily shared with Severus all that time ago. Although, judging from the horrified expression on the man’s face, seeing it played out in person was worse than anything his mind could have conjured up.

Severus and Remus disentangled themselves from each other while trying to avoid Black’s outraged glare.

"What the hell did you two think you were doing?!” he spluttered, face twisting in effort to convey both his furiousness and disgust simultaneously. “On my great-aunt's bloody chesterfield as well!"

Severus expected Remus to recoil from him before blurting out some garbled form of ‘it’s not what it looks like!’. Instead, he simply straightened his robes, brushed a fallen curl of hair from out of his eyes, and flashed an apologetic smile at his friend. "Well...to be fair...it's probably the most action its seen in a long time…"

Black blinked, momentarily stunned before quickly coming back to his senses.

"Don't think you can charm your way out of this Remus!" he shouted.

What followed next was pure chaos. Nymphadora burst into the room raising her wand, hair flashing a bright orange and eyes wide with alarm. Alastor Moody limped in closely behind, magical eye whizzing round a full three-sixty degrees in its socket as he ranted about intruders. At the same time, all the commotion roused Mrs Black who began shrieking like a banshee from her portrait.

“HALF-BLOODS CAVORTING WITH HALF-BREEDS!”

“Everything alrigh’ Remus?”

“DEVIANCE! PERVERSION!”

“We must check the defences! Could be a breach!”

“UNDER MY ANCIENT FAMILY’S ROOF!”

“Oh, don’t worry Tonks. These two are more than alright.”

“GET OUT! ALL OF YOU, GET OUT!”

Amongst the confusion, Severus managed to slip away. This was a memory that could go in the Pensieve forever.

***

Malfoy manor was colder than usual today. It wasn’t just the large rooms with their high ceilings, stone floors and single, often unlit, fireplace causing the chill - it was the atmosphere. Severus didn’t know quite what was causing it, but he had a feeling it would all become clear to him very soon. The Dark Lord liked to think himself unreadable, unknowable, and therefore fully unpredictable, but he had his tells. Several of them, in fact. The way he was slowly tapping those long fingernails against the table, eyes flashing at any sudden movement, while paying no attention to his beloved Nagini: all this suggested a high probability that someone was going to die.

“They are here?” he asked, not addressing any one of the cowed figures in particular.

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius said, eyes averted. “We have, of course, restricted them to the foyer while we await your instruction.”

Whatever the Dark Lord’s instructions would have been would remain a mystery to them as, at that moment, Dolohov staggered wildly through the glass doors. He was clutching a hand to his face to stem the tide of blood pouring from his (probably broken) nose.

“Apologies my Lord,” he grovelled. “I tried to stop them but-”

Dolohov’s words were reduced to a pained, blood-filled gurgle as Greyback brought his enormous fist down onto his (now definitely broken) nose again. He hit the floor with a thud. The werewolf strode casually over his slumped body, arms outstretched as if greeting old friends.

“My invitation must have been misplaced this time,” he said to the crowd, face breaking into a smile that displayed every one of his too-many teeth.

In no time at all, the rest of his pack poured in behind him. Around a dozen werewolves glared around the elaborate room. All of them differed in age, shape and size, but one thing united them – they were all absolutely feral. What passed as their clothing was ragged and torn, and each one of them was streaked with filth to some degree. Individually any one of them would have been a sorry sight, but together they burned with righteous anger. Their combined strength was enough to send many of the Death Eaters - Severus included - leaping up from their seats, wands drawn and pointed, awaiting direction from their master.

Severus’ own wand wavered over the crowd before coming to rest on a young woman. More of a girl, really. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen. Severus thought she would be safest if he was the one to face off with her, should it come to that. As she sneered and bared her yellow teeth at him, Severus couldn’t help but wonder if she was the same girl Remus had told him about.

Bellatrix was the first to speak. Or rather – scream.

“How DARE you come in here without permission. YOU FILTHY-”

“Bella, Bella, please,” the Dark Lord soothed, his death-pale hand raised placatingly. “All of you, please, sit back down.”

Severus sat. That was when he noticed that there, at the very back of the pack, was Remus himself.

He was barely distinguishable from the rest of them. Several fresh cuts and bruises littered his face. His head was bowed to indicate his subservience to the rest of the werewolves, or perhaps it was simply to disguise his fear. If so, he wasn’t doing a very good job. It practically radiated from him.

Severus froze. How could Remus even think of coming here? If the Dark Lord read his mind - even for a moment - he was a dead man! Severus' eyes unconsciously flicked to the Dark Lord's face, then back to Remus. Stupid! He must control himself! He would get Remus killed, and himself shortly after!

He must focus. Push the thoughts away.

His throat was becoming tight. There had been people he'd cared about killed before his eyes before but not like this.

Stop. He had to stop thinking.

Sweat was beading in the small of his back. He told himself the Dark Lord wouldn't notice Remus. That he would pay no attention to a lowly werewolf lackey.

Clear the mind. Clear the mind! Why was it so difficult this time?

What would Severus do if the Dark Lord ordered Remus killed? What if he was the one asked to carry it out? Could he do it? Should he do it?

Discipline. Discipline. Discipline.

No. He couldn't. And he couldn't stand back and watch someone he loved die. Not again. Not again not again not again not again not-

Then it hit. The blankness. The numbness. He'd done it. Safely occluded again. If he could have felt anything at all, it would have been relief.

The Dark Lord grinned. His focus was entirely on Greyback. "How kind of you to join us, my very faithful servant."

"And I have brought my faithful servants along with me!" Greyback said with a grin of his own. He stood tall, eyes bright and alert. "We are here with some demands."

The Dark Lord laughed. High and haughty. "So, there are to be demands now? Have I not done everything asked of me already? Has every promise not been kept?"

"Your promises all come after the war is won! Our numbers reduce by the day! These noble wizards of yours-" he waved a dirty hand wildly in the direction of the group seated around the table "-all of them are content to hide behind us in battle. None of them consider us to be equals!"

"And you never will be!" Yaxley yelled, shooting back up from his chair. "You should be honoured to even stand in our presence!"

The Dark Lord silenced him with a look. "Please-" he said, addressing Greyback once more. "-tell me what it is that would satisfy you and your...people?"

"A place at this table for one thing!" Greyback snarled. "And better living conditions! No longer should we have to spend our lives living in squalor. No more will we hide in the shadows!"

The Dark Lord threw back his head with mirth. "And what would the Ministry say when a pack of werewolves take up residence in Diagon Alley? Even they are not so incompetent as to miss that!

"And speaking of the Ministry,” Greyback growled, “Dolores Umbridge is still in power! You promised you would dispense with her, along with all the others who have advocated for our deaths in the past."

"All in good time. Many of those people still have their uses."

"We have decided. If things do not change, we will take our allegiance elsewhere!"

"Oh? And do you speak for all of these people?"

"I do. Their loyalty is to me - not you!"

"We shall soon find out." In a flash, the Dark Lord was on his feet. His long, pale arm flashed out from under his robe. Almost as pale as the bone handle wand gleaming at the end of it. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed.

And just like that - Greyback was dead.

He slumped to the floor in a heap. Severus had seen a lot of death in his time but there was something about this one. All that strength, all that power, all that pure rage...snuffed out in an instant. Where did it all go?

The werewolves took a collective step back. Many snarled, some raised their arms, hands curled as if they were claws. As if their bodies were the weapons they knew them to be during the full moon.

"Imobulus," muttered the Dark Lord, and every werewolf was frozen where they stood: Remus included.

Severus knew his master was most dangerous at times like these. It seemed as though each time he killed he felt the thrill less and less. Nothing put him in a worse mood than monotony. Nagini slithered to his side in anticipation.

"My Lord," Severus began softly, "perhaps giving them time to consider your offer would be the best course of action?"

The Dark Lord rounded on him. "The time for offers is over, Severus! You see how they shun my generosity!" Sparks flew from the tip of the wand that he gestured towards them.

"I meant only the offer of their lives in return for their continued loyalty. They deserve less than that, I agree, after that little display of mutiny. But one can't deny the werewolves have been a valuable asset to the cause. Why, I believe no less than three blood traitor families have responded to the threat of werewolf attack in the last month alone."

Severus could see the Dark Lord was wavering. Trying to balance his increasing bloodlust with the need for practicality.

He waved his wand and the werewolves were free once more.

"You are lucky my most trusted servant is more merciful than I. Leave. All of you. And do not return until you are willing to pledge yourselves to me fully."

The werewolves practically scrambled over one another in their haste to be gone from the Manor. Severus could have sworn he heard several, canine-like whines escape some of them as they fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading and leaving nice comments. It really means the world to me! You can catch me on tumblr as bunny-bopper for more chat or just for that sweet snape content <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus has a revelation and finds help waiting where he least expects it.

It was still the early hours of morning when the Patronus whisked through the staff room window. Its sudden appearance caused Severus to look up from where he sat, rigid in one of the well-used chairs with only a cup of strong coffee for company, having abandoned any attempt at sleep long ago. (Using a draught was out of the question, with the possibility of Remus needing to contact him through the night.)

Severus’ heart was in his throat as the silver wolf padded up to him, timid and small compared to how he remembered it. _‘Back safe’_ was all it said before vanishing in a shimmer of light.

Okay. Fine. Remus had sent word. Which meant he was back at headquarters. Which meant he was safe. Which meant that Severus did _not_ need to abandon his coffee, throw on his travelling cloak, floo down to the nearest castle exit, and march off the grounds of Hogwarts. He tried not to think too rationally about what he was doing. For once Severus let his emotions take the lead as he apparated to Grimmauld Place with a crack, rushed up to the front door, pushed against it with all his strength, and-

-collided into it face first.

Severus cursed loudly as he rubbed at his throbbing, but thankfully not bleeding, nose. (At least he wasn't in as bad a state as Dolohov.) He stood back to examine the exterior of the house. When he put his hand out in front of him, he was met with an iridescent magical barrier, like the whole building was encased within a giant soap bubble. Severus knew it was a spell that would respond only to him. Of all the childish…

"BLACK! REMOVE THIS IMMEDIATELY!" he shouted, paying little heed to the Muggle dwellings either side. Severus tried to hammer his fist against the door but was stopped inches before the wood by the wards, which produced an unpleasant tingling sensation. But he knew Black could hear him.

"I AM WARNING YOU! GRANT ME ENTRANCE THIS INSTANT OR-" a Muggle man in a dressing gown stuck his head out the window of one of the neighbouring properties. Severus lowered his voice and hoped it would still be enough to carry through the barrier, “-or I will have no choice but to tell Dumbledore you are obstructing Order business!"

The door flew open to reveal Black's furious face. "Obstructing you from getting your end away more like!"

Severus balked. "Th-this is no time for your crass comments! There is a serious situation I need to discuss with-"

"Your fuck buddy, I get it." Merlin, he really was livid. "If you want a shag, Snape, you can do it somewhere else. Not in my house!"

"You are being ridiculous!” Severus said, cheeks aflame despite himself. “Listen to me! Remus he...he might be in more danger than he realises.”

Black did listen at that. After a moment’s hesitation, he waved the wards away, eyes narrowed at Severus all the while. “Alright,” he said finally, “but I’m chaperoning.”

He watched Black retreat into the darkness of the house. When Severus stepped over the threshold after him that tingling sensation remained causing him to shudder. He was certain Black had left it there on purpose.

It sounded as if the house was empty of all but the three of them. Unless one counted the thuds coming from the enormous Hippogriff moving around upstairs, or the low mutter of Black’s house elf as it scurried past. (And, for some reason, Severus never did seem to count them.)

He was left alone to tap a toe against the floor of the foyer while he waited for Black to return with Remus. After some muffled conversation (which sounded rather heated on Black’s part) the two of them appeared at the top of the stairs. Remus was clutching the bannister for support, eyes wide and bloodshot. Whether it was from sleep deprivation or because he was still reeling from having been so close to the Dark Lord, and in turn his own demise, Severus couldn’t tell. Otherwise, though, he appeared unharmed.

Relief washed over Severus as soon as he saw him. It seeped into his muscles like sinking into a warm bath. He exhaled deeply. But by the time they had descended the stairs, Severus’ relief had gone through an ugly transformation into rage.

“What in Merlin’s name possessed you?! How could you even _think_ of going there?!” Severus shouted at Remus, unable hide his anger despite their audience.

Said audience looked between the two of them in confusion. “What’s he talking about Remus? Where did you go?”

Remus turned a shade paler and looked down at his hands. “I - ah - was present at last night’s Death Eater meeting...”

“You WHAT?!” Black yelled.

“That’s right!” Severus was so angry that the absurdity of siding with Sirius Black on something wasn’t even registering. “And he would have ended up dead alongside Greyback had I not intervened!”

“Greyback’s dead?!”

“Alright, alright!” Remus exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I accept I have some explaining to do, but if I have to face the wrath of _both_ of you, I’m going to need a cup of tea first. What do you say we take this to the kitchen?” Remus disappeared down towards the basement before either of them had time to protest. Severus and Black looked at each other, temporarily united in their protective fury, before following.

Severus had never seen the kitchen so quiet. He’d grown so used to Nyphadora cracking a joke, or Mundungus eyeing up the silverware, that they had become like part of the furniture. Remus was already preparing the tea, along with his excuses, as they sat down at the table. He said nothing unexpected – Greyback had announced it at the last moment. Not going would have meant Remus blowing his cover, which would have had him marked for death at best had he managed to escape. So, he took a chance on the fact that Voldemort would be unlikely to pay much attention to someone like him.

Severus placed his mug down on the table harder than he meant to. “The risk you took was astronomical! Do you have any idea how it fel-” He cut himself off when he remembered Black was staring between the two of them.

“It was no different to the risk you take every day!” Remus said, losing some of his composure himself. “Do you have any idea how that makes _me_ feel?!”

“I have no idea how you feel, Remus, what with you constantly hiding it from me!”

“Hiding? What are you-”

Severus and Remus were both startled by the sound of Black’s chair scraping against the stone floor. He coughed awkwardly. “I think - err - I think I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. But I’ll be keeping an ear out so no funny business!” With that, he hurried from the room.

Severus smirked despite the tense atmosphere. “Seems we made him rather uncomfortable...”

“He lasted longer than I expected him to,” Remus remarked with a small smile. He set about pouring them more tea from the pot, a calming ritual more than anything. “But honestly, Severus, I’ve never hidden anything from you.”

“Then then explain to me why I can't-” Severus stopped. He forced himself to get his emotions under control before continuing. He watched Remus add their milk as he continued, voice trembling with the effort of keeping it measured. “All my life I... have been able to read others' thoughts.”

“I am fully aware of your gift, Severus, you mention it rather often,” Remus remarked with impatience. “Have you been trying to read my mind?”

“No, I haven't been trying! I don't...I don't have to try. I am capable of that type of Legillimency, of course, where one must make a deliberate effort to penetrate a person's mind, but some of us are equally gifted in the more passive kind.

Remus was staring at him in disbelief. “So, you constantly hear people's thoughts? All the time? How could you possibly function?!”

"No, Remus, not all the time,” said Severus, eyes flicking up to the ceiling to convey his exasperation “Eye contact is still essential. It's more like...snippets. It usually happens when the person is having strong feelings about something." He snorted before adding, "Usually that something is me."

"And you're saying you've never heard my thoughts?"

"Never," Severus said firmly, but then he paused. "Wait. That's not strictly true. I used to, back when we were in school. It was more difficult to control back then. That's why I preferred to be alone most of the time. And a bit when you were teaching, but not much now I come to think of it…"

"But that doesn't make sense," Remus muttered. "What kind of things did you hear?"

"From you? Unpleasant things. Just like the rest of your friends."

"Such as?"

Severus sucked in a breath. He hadn’t wanted to go there. "Such as 'he's asking for it, being so creepy'. You always acted like you were above them, but the inside of your head was just the same.”

Remus looked stunned. A pained expression crept over his face as he processed the information he’d just been given. But he didn’t deny it. "I did...think those things. I was trying to justify my friends' actions, and my inaction. If you deserved what we did to you then-"

"Then you and your friends were good people – problem solved,” Severus finished. He sighed. Bringing up the past hadn’t been his intention. It felt so meaningless compared to what they faced now. “I understand Remus. You're only human...well most of the time anyway," he added dryly.

"But those things weren’t...they weren’t the only things I thought about you.” Remus stared down into his tea, lost in contemplation. “What about the others?” he eventually asked. “Do you hear their thoughts?"

"The other Order members? Oh yes,” Severus said bitterly, “some doubt my intentions, whether I've really _changed my ways_ , as it were. Most just tend to think that I'm a generally disagreeable person, putting it politely."

"Well that's not what they say."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "They don't say that I'm a vindictive, greasy bastard?"

"Well, okay, yes they do say that. But that's not all they say! They also say you're an extremely talented wizard, that many wish you could join them to fight in the open, that they'd feel more confident having someone with your talent and skill fighting by their side. And, of course, they say you are extremely brave...to do what you do."

"What people say and what people think are two different things. Believe me, I know."

"But people are complicated, Severus!" cried Remus, visibly frustrated. "They are capable of feeling lots of things about another person, sometimes all at once!" His eyes bore directly into Severus’ as if willing him to see something, some heartfelt declaration of feeling projected straight from one mind to the other, but still there was nothing

"Yes, Remus and believe me I usually see it all! And there has always been a continuous, and very negative, theme." Severus took a steadying sip of his lukewarm tea but found he couldn’t taste it. He had never told anyone this much about it before.

Remus studied him as though he was considering something carefully. When he spoke next it was with slow caution. "Do you think...do you think perhaps that...maybe...you're only seeing the negative?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

But Remus was looking as though he was just about to crack the hardest arithmancy code out there. "You said it was worse when you were younger, didn't you?"

"Before I could control it, yes, but-"

"Well then, what if your way of controlling it was to filter out unnecessary information? To only pick up on what was important?"

Severus opened his mouth to argue but nothing came.

“People always focus on the bad things about themselves rather than the good.” Remus smiled a knowing smile at him. “And you are, after all, only human.”

***

It was several days later, and Severus still had not quite come to terms with his new view of the world. As unconvinced by Remus’ theory as he remained, he had to admit that parts of it made sense. His first memory of arriving at Hogwarts as a bright-eyed eleven-year-old was noticing just how _noisy_ it was. There were so many people, so many excited, jabbering thoughts all crammed into the one place. (He hadn’t even needed eye contact back then and his untrained and untethered ability often ran away from him.) It had been information overload. Frequently having to rush off to the sanctuary of the library just to get away from it all didn’t do much for his reputation and most people began to think of him as unsociable and aloof.

But with enough exposure, a person can adapt to almost anything. Severus learned to pay little attention to what was going on in someone else’s head unless it was important. And being a self-absorbed teenager, what Severus considered important was anything that concerned him. It hadn’t always been bad things. Severus was able to recall his teachers praising his efforts before they’d even opened their mouths or Lily thinking how funny he was before she’d even begun to laugh as his joke.

However, as he grew to become victim to a host of unpleasant things from the other students - four in particular - what became _most_ important was anything that could give him the advantage in a fight. If he could see the insult before it was hurled his way, he could have a far more cutting comeback at the ready. If someone was even thinking about hexing him, he could _Langlock_ their jaw shut before they had time to get the words out. Eventually, he just...sort of...stopped hearing anything else.

So, what now? Could he expect to suddenly hear all the nice things people supposedly thought about him after Remus’ tender revelation? Unlikely. Severus was starting to suspect there was a ‘use it or lose it’ element when it came to Legillimency. Even if all his students suddenly started to regard him as teacher of the year, Severus would hear none of their internal praise, no matter how closely he peered into their eyes. (Although he would immediately hear whatever insult came to mind when he handed back a poorly marked essay.) Still...it was something to be mindful of.

Severus was brought out of his reflection by a rapping on his office door. Potter was early. _Very_ early. That made his audacity even less understandable when he practically broke the door down in his haste to get inside.

“Potter!” Severus spat. “Are you really so entitled that you think you can just barge into my office without permission?!”

Potter’s naturally untidy hair was sticking up in all directions, as if he had only just been roused from sleep. His glassed slid halfway off his nose as he bent over with his hands on his knees, heaving in several breaths.

“Sorry sir-I just-had to-tell you something,” he huffed out between gasps.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. “Out with it then!”

Potter hesitated for a moment but pressed on. “Sir, earlier I was practicing the whole ‘clearing my mind’ thing when I sort of - err - fell asleep...”

Severus arranged his face into an expression he hoped would adequately convey how unimpressed he was.

“...and, um, while I was asleep I...kind of...had another vision...”

“I’ve told you before Potter, I have no interest in your ‘visions’. They are merely a distraction.”

“But sir-”

“And why are you bothering _me_ about it anyway? Why not run straight to Dumbledore like you usually do?”

“Because this one is about you!” - Potter was shouting now, his frustration at not being pandered to making him forget himself yet again - “And Sirius told me in his letter that I could definitely trust you so just shut up and listen to me for once!”

Severus paused, stunned by the revelation and unsure how to proceed as he took in the boy’s desperation. This could be a trap, a setup cleverly concocted by the Dark Lord, one which would reveal Severus as a traitorous spy the moment he fell into it. On the other hand, Potter had actually been showing an improvement in his Occlumency skills. So much so that Severus suspected even the Dark Lord would have trouble putting false images in his head from such a distance away.

“Very well,” he said simply, “tell me.”

Potter faltered again, thrown off by his reasonable response. “Well...Voldemort- I mean, uh, He-Who-Must-”

“Just get on with it Potter!”

“Err, right. Well, he was talking to his followers.” The boy closed his eyes as if to better recall the fading vision. “I’m not really sure what he was on about, but he said he was going to go against your guidance...and that the ‘beasts’ had served their purpose...and they would all be killed. Sir? Are you alright?”

Potter had opened his eyes to see Severus gripping the desk in front of him for support. He forced himself to stem the panic rising in his chest.

“Yes of course I’m alright, Potter! Who specifically was the Dark Lord addressing?”

Potter’s eyes were widening to mimic Severus’ own. “I-I didn’t see all of them, but I recognised some from the posters.” He began hurriedly ticking them off against his fingers. “Dolohov, McNair, Nott, Yaxley – he seemed very keen to go...”

“And when did the Dark Lord order this to happen?”

“Tonight.”

Severus swallowed. He pushed the tremble out of his voice by sheer force of will. “I... doubt this is anything to be concerned about, Potter, but thank-you for bringing it to my attention all the same.”

“But sir-”

“I’m afraid our lesson it cancelled today but please use the extra time to practice,” Severus said already turning away and making a mental note of things he might need to take with him, “while remaining conscious if at all possible.”

Severus waited until Potter was out the door before he flew into action. He gathered up his emergency kit, his wand, an endurance potion or two, and raced out the door. The sun was low in the sky, but it wasn’t yet dusk. The Death Eaters would be unlikely to strike until well into the night. He still had time.

The last interaction he’d had with Remus played over in his head as he tore through the hallways. After they’d had their talk Severus had grasped his hand from across the table and told him not to go back out there, that it was too dangerous, that the Dark Lord had been known to change his mind, that he had been so scared when Remus entered that dining hall that he’d nearly blown his cover, that it had been getting harder and harder to close his mind in general since they had started…whatever they’d started.

Remus had circled round the table and placed a firm kiss on his mouth before enclosing his arms around him. Then he told a lie so enormous it could rival all of Severus’ put together: _it’s going to be alright_.

The password was on the tip of his tongue when he reached the seventh floor, but something stopped him from uttering it. He stared at the unmoving gargoyle as a battle raged inside him. His first instinct had been to turn to Dumbledore, to beg him for help for the second time in his life. But…would he? Or would he simply write Remus off as another casualty of war? Severus couldn’t help but feel as though he were back on that wild hilltop. Only this time, he had a chance to do things differently.

Severus swept silently away from the Headmaster’s office and made his way to the only person reckless enough to be relied upon for something like this.

***

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” Black had already summoned his cloak and was draping it round his thin frame.

“I don’t need you coming along and getting us all killed!” Severus hissed, “I just need you to tell me where- “

But Black was paying him little heed as he stowed his wand away in his belt. “If Remus is in trouble then I’m coming along. Now,” - he looked at Severus, ready and determined – “where are we going?”

Severus blinked. “I…that’s what I came here to ask you!”

“Are you telling me you don’t know where your lover has been hiding out undercover for the last two months?!”

“N-not the exact location, no,” Severus said, feeling awfully defensive. “And he isn’t my l-“

“Well isn’t that fantastic?” Black exclaimed. “It’s not like we can just send a Patronus into a werewolf den, can we?”

Somehow Severus resisted the urge to slap him. “Someone in this pathetic excuse for an organisation must know where he is!”

Just then, Severus noticed that the pile of rags he had first mistaken for Black’s unclean washing tossed casually on a chair had started to move. Mundungus Fletcher, who had apparently been there the whole time, raised his head to look at them both.

“Nnugh? Time s’it?” he asked, rubbing his bleary eyes. He then let out a small scream as Black brought a fist down hard on the table beside him.

“Mundungus!” Black yelled, bringing his face in close to the other man’s. “Do you know where Remus is?”

Mundungus sniffed. His eyes darted between Black’s face and his clenched fist still on the table. “I might.”

“You must tell us!” Severus demanded.

Mundungus turned to Severus as though just realising he was there. He then stroked his thumb and forefinger over the wisps of ginger hair at the end of his chin. “And why would I do that?” he asked. “I do take my secret keeper status seriously y’know!”

“He made _you_ secret keeper?!” Black asked, incredulous.

“That ‘e did!” Mundungus said smugly, grinning so wide the gold teeth at the back of his mouth flashed at them. “Bet ya weren’t expectin’ that were ya?”

“Can you take us to him?” Severus asked at the same time as Black muttered ‘unbelievable’ under his breath.

Mundungus heaved himself up off the chair and stretched. This whole ordeal was moving painfully slowly for Severus, but he knew that if Mundungus knew the reason they needed to get to Remus so badly there was no chance the thief would take them. He may not even tell them where he was. Severus wasn’t above using blackmail, or even torture, to get him to spill the information. But if he really was under the Fidelius charm, the location had to be freely given.

Thankfully Mundungus didn’t require much persuasion and bought some half-baked story about Remus forgetting his potion. (Although it didn’t do wonders for Severus’ opinion on Remus’ judgement of character.)

“Well…normally I wouldn’t but it just so ‘appens one of the little bleeders owes me some money. Twenty Galleons no less!”

“One of the werewolves owes you money?” Severus asked, sounding almost as incredulous as Black had moments before.

“Hey!” Mundungus placed his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at Severus. “I do business with lotsa people! Don’t discriminate. Speaking of, I gotta see a man ‘bout some explodin’ cauldrons first so sit tight.”

He apparated away before either of them could argue.

“Where has he gone?!” Severus cried.

“I don’t know Snape,” snarled Black. “Perhaps if you’d been honest with him rather feeding him a bunch of nonsense he wouldn’t have left!”

Severus rounded on him. “If I had told him that we were off to save Remus from a hoard of Death Eaters he would have left much faster than that believe me!”

“Well we’re fucked either way now aren’t we?!” Black yelled.

“Not necessarily.”

The two of them jumped as an additional voice entered the conversation. They turned in unison to see Nyphadora standing in the hallway, hair falling in ice blue waves almost to her waist. She strode towards them with more self-assurance than Severus had ever seen on her before. She even managed to avoid colliding into anything.

“How many more bloody people are hiding in this house Black?!” Severus exclaimed.

“I didn’t know she was here!”

“Well it’s a good job I am isn’t it coz I know where Dung’s gone,” Nymphadora said, still wearing her confident smile.

“Well stop wasting our time being so proud of yourself and tell us!” Severus snapped.

“Oh no,” she said, positioning herself in between him and Black and taking one of their hands in each of her own. “If I do that, you’ll just head off without me. If Remus is in trouble, I’m coming too!”

Severus felt an unpleasant pull in his stomach as she Apparated the three of them out of Grimmauld Place. They found themselves on the streets of Hogsmeade. (And Severus was pleased to find he still had all his limbs attached when he checked himself.) Most of the shops had closed and the evening revelry could be heard just beginning in from the Three Broomsticks across the road. Nymphadora lead them away from the music and the warmth towards a back alley.

It wasn’t long before they saw Mundungus emerge from the Hog’s Head, swaying under the weight of several cast iron cauldrons.

“He always wears those rags when he goes to Aberforth’s place. It’s what passes for his version of a disguise,” Nyphadora smirked.

“Mundungus!” Black shouted, his voice carrying far into the night.

The man let out a yelp and few into the air. He struggled to catch the falling cauldrons but, thankfully, succeeded.

“What the bleedin’ ‘ell are you playin’ at?!” he yelled. “This whole street would have gon’ up if I’d dropped these! This is dangerous equipment, this is!”

The three of them hurried over to the shouting man before they attracted too much attention.

“Well you shouldn’t have disappeared on us, should you?” Black said in an angry stage whisper.

Mundungus looked genuinely affronted. “Said I was comin’ back din I?”

“When?” asked Nyphadora, drumming her fingernails along one of the cauldrons. “After you’d flogged all of these?”

“I said _careful_ with those!”

After several more minutes arguing, which Severus had to put a stop to by saying ‘enough!’ in his best teacher voice, Mundungus finally agreed to take them. He wasn’t as skilled as Nyphadora in Apparating so they went in twos. First Mundungus took Black, who came back for Nyphadora once he knew the location, who, in turn, would come back for Severus.

“Is it safe?” he asked her one she had returned.

“The coast is most definitely clear,” she beamed, linking her arm with his which caused Severus to flinch only mildly. “Although, I made sure those two idiots were behind some cover before I left. You never know what-“

They Apparated with a crack to a place unknown. It was cold. Severus could hear waves crashing against rocks, and feel the spray of saltwater on his face. It was almost fully dark now but he could see the outline of figures on the shore. Too many figures.

“-you might come back to,” Nyphadora finished flatly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming to the dramatic conclusion! Thank you for sticking with this story and for all the amazing feedback! The final chapter along with more art from the wonderful M_Renoir will be uploaded on Sunday.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus knows this double life just can't work with Remus in it.

“Severus? Don’t tell me they sent someone as important as you for something like this?”

Shit. They were too late.

Severus could just make out Yaxley leering at them through the gloom. By the light of the man’s raised wand, he could also see the dark outline of a cave system behind the gathered Death Eaters, many of whom hadn’t even bothered donning their masks for such a meaningless task.

“And Bellatrix?” Yaxley continued in amusement. “I thought you said you wouldn’t demean yourself with the dispensing of half-breeds?”

Severus turned to see that Nymphadora had shifted into the spitting image of her aunt. That blue hair was replaced by a wild mass of jet-black curls, and her easy smile was now a hard-set glare. It wasn’t perfect by any means: cheekbones a little too high, jaw just a tad too square, but, hidden by her cloak and the evening darkness, no-one would be any the wiser. (Severus just hoped none of them noticed her tartan trousers, or if they did, wouldn’t be fool enough to comment on them.)

“I would be more concerned as to why the Dark Lord felt the need to send us if I were you,” Severus said, taking the lead. Even if Nymphadora could change her voice, he doubted she would be able to adequately capture Bellatrix’s haughty tone. “What would make him doubt that you were capable of handling a few werewolves? Under a waxing moon no less?”

Even under the darkness, Severus could see Yaxley turn scarlet. “I...if you are referring to that incident with the Unspeakable then-”

“I am not referring to anything, nor am I the one questioning the Dark Lord’s orders,” Severus interrupted swiftly. “Perhaps you four should wait here? We shall signal if we need you.”

They strutted past the outraged Yaxley, ensuring that every step they took projected arrogant confidence while internally they trembled. The Death Eater’s squabbles faded away to silence, broken only by the steady drip of water from the cavernous ceiling, as they pushed further and further into the cave. The silence continued as they made their painstakingly slow descent, too shaken by their encounter to speak. Severus’ mind raced with possible outcomes, but even he was unable to think of a way he could keep his cover, and his life, intact while saving Remus. There was no way all of them would be able to escape with their lives. Nymphadora seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Any time her arm wasn’t out to stabilise herself on the uneven terrain, she was chewing furiously on the skin of her thumb, a strange gesture to see Bellatrix’s doppelganger performing.

After struggling through for what felt like hours, Severus was just daring to hope they had all come to the wrong cave when the glow of a fire came into view. They come to stop and crouch low, observing the werewolves gathered ahead.

Their numbers had certainly dwindled since their last visit to Malfoy Manor. They lay huddled together in twos and threes, all of them looking thoroughly miserable. With Greyback dead, the most powerful among them had abandoned the pack, perhaps having predicted further retaliation from the Death Eaters. Remus looked to have stepped up as leader in their absence. He moved between the shivering crowd handing out blankets and offering words of encouragement.

They needed a way to get his attention, preferably without alerting the others who would not take kindly to their intrusion. Thankfully, Nymphadora spared them the trouble of figuring out a way to do that by slipping on one of the wet rocks under their feet and landing on her backside with a loud ‘oof’.

Several of the werewolves looked up in alarm at the direction of the sound. Many of them turned to Remus as if seeking guidance about how to proceed. He gave them a reassuring smile before signalling for them to wait while he investigated. The two of them stay hidden behind a rock while they wait for Remus to approach, Severus glaring at Nymphadora – who has transformed back into her irritating self – all the while.

“Severus?!” Remus whispered once he reached them, shining the light of his wand over their faces. “Tonks? I thought that sounded like one of your falls!”

“Alright, Remus?” She grinned.

Remus crouched down on his knees, becoming level with them. “What are you both doing here?”

Severus couldn’t help it – he reached out to touch him. Just to feel that he was here and warm and alive. Remus cupped a hand over Severus’ instinctively. Nymphadora noticed. A small, knowing smile crept over her face as her eyes flicked over their now-clasped hands.

“We came to warn you,” Severus said hastily. “You have to get these people out of here! Is there another exit?”

“Another exit?” Remus repeated. “Severus this is an abandoned cave in the middle of nowhere, not bloody Wookey Hole!”

Nymphadora took over from Severus’ blind panic. She explained about the Death Eaters outside and the Dark Lord’s change of plans around letting them live. Remus let go of Severus and sat back on his haunches to think.

“Well...I suppose we could-”

Remus’ words were drowned out by a low growl emitting from somewhere behind Severus’ ear. It was accompanied by the feel of rancid breath against his cheek and sharp nails digging into his neck as someone wrapped their hands roughly around his throat. Remus cried out in alarm. Nymphadora raised her wand, cursing when she couldn’t get a clear shot at the perpetrator.

“Stop Cullen! He’s here to help!” Remus pleaded.

“No!” the man behind Severus’ head growled. “I recognise him, Remus, he is one of them! He will kill us all!”

“No, you don’t understand he-”

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

Whoever was holding Severus became nothing more than a dead weight against him. Remus uttered a faint sound of disbelief before whirling round to find the source of the spell along with the identity of the person who had murdered his friend.But Severus could already see Yaxley’s smug face as he led the others right to them.

“Well, well, well, look who ended up needing our help after all…” Yaxley’s stiffened when he caught sight of Nymphadora, regular face and psychedelic hair back in place. She tried to morph back into Bellatrix, but it was too late: they’d been exposed. He curled his lip into a snarl. “Traitor!”

The cave became an endless flash of curses fired back and forth. Many of the werewolves came to defend themselves but years of living on the outskirts of wizardkind had made their magic rusty and some fell instantly before their eyes. Remus, Severus and Nymphadora rushed to the forefront, splitting off the Death Eaters and shielding the weakest members of the pack.

You could say what you liked about Nymphadora’s clumsiness (and privately, Severus had said a lot) but in battle she was all grace. She bounced and weaved, dodging every attack thrown at her before landing a _Stupefy_ right between Dolohov’s eyes. Remus was slower, more cautious, preferring to tire out McNair with defensive spells before catching him off guard by finally sending off a curse of his own.

And Severus - he was all offence. A rage like nothing he’d ever felt before surged through him which made taking on both Nott and Yaxley at the same time feel too easy. Rage and, something else, some lighter, freeing. He had a side now. Had people who trusted him enough to step up and fight alongside him. Open and-

Nott was down. He clutched a bleeding arm from a curse Severus couldn’t remember firing before disappearing into the shadows. Yaxley’s eyes darted around the cave as he took several steps back from Severus. His lips then spread into a cruel smile as his gaze finally came to rest somewhere behind Severus.

“ _Incarcerous_!” he shouted.

Black rope shot out of his wand and flew past Severus’ face. It wrapped itself around Remus who was then instantly pulled to Yaxley’s side. The tip of his wand pressed against Remus’ throat before Severus could react.

“So, this is what you’re willing to die for, Severus?” Yaxley taunted. “First a Mudblood and now a beast?” He dug his wand harder into Remus’ neck causing him to flinch away.

Severus let out a roar of anger but lowered his wand. Nymphadora followed suit, cursing. Triumphant laughter rang out through the cave as the roused Death Eaters made their way back to their leader.

“Call him, McNair,” Yaxley continued, adding his own laughter to the mix. “I’m sure the Dark Lord with reward us well for exposing such a clever spy.”

With unrestrained delight, McNair pulled up the sleeve of his robe to expose his left forearm and stepped back. Before his right hand could touch the Dark Mark, however, he was distracted by a dull thunk as his foot collided with something.

“What the-? What’s a cauldron doing down here?”

He gave it a light kick and that was all it took.

The resulting explosion knocked Severus, and everyone else, off their feet. A joyous whooping could be heard far off into the distance. Through the ringing in his ears, Severus thought he could make out voices.

“Wahey! Got the slimy bastards!”

_Mundungus?_

“You got everyone on our side too you halfwit!”

_Sirius?_

“Well… don’ Albus always say the ends justify the means or sommat?”

“Mundungus I swear to Merlin…”

_Typical._

Nymphadora groaned as she slowly came to beside him, she had managed to protect them from some falling rocks before the blast knocked her out. Severus clambered unsteadily to his feet and surveyed the damage. Miraculously, the rest of the cave was still standing. He sent up a few charms to secure the roof just in case.

Three bodies lay unmoving next to the remnants of the cauldron. McNair, Nott and Dolohov. Dead. Severus coughed through the smoke as he searched for Remus.

He found him lying on his back after being thrown several feet across the cave. He was conscious, but still tightly bound by the magical rope. Somehow, Yaxley still had a hold of him. Bloody and enraged, he lay behind him, one arm wrapped around Remus’ neck, the other raising his wand. Yaxley gave Severus a look of the purest hatred, caught briefly in a conflict between the need to summon his master and the desire to kill Remus right in front of him.

Severus locked eyes with Remus instead. There were no shared thoughts. No words passed between them. But still, Severus knew exactly what Remus wanted him to do. Severus raised his wand and aimed it directly at his lover.

“ _Lumorphus_!” he shouted.

Remus let out an agonized scream and went ridged. He broke free of the bonds and Yaxley’s hold on him as his limbs elongated with a hideous crack of bone. Severus watched as his jaw pushed forward to make way for a mouthful of jutting fangs. Not an inevitable effect of the full moon this time, but something Severus had willed to happen.

Yaxley, too, watched in horror at the transformation happening before his eyes. But before Remus had even fully turned, he lunged forward and ripped open the man’s throat. Too fast for him to even scream. The next thing he knew he was in the dirt, trying desperately to stop the blood gushing forth from his neck. It wasn’t long before he stilled.

Then, for the fourth time in his life, Severus stood face to face with a rabid werewolf. He reflected, with some misplaced amusement, that he really should be used to it by now. How long would he remain like this? Minutes? Hours? Severus considered casting _Homorphus_ , forcing him to change back into human form, but the shock of another transformation so soon might be too much for him.

Severus closed his eyes. If this was to happen, he didn’t want to see it coming. He imagined Remus stalking slowly towards him, amber eyes glowing, inhuman. An ear-splitting howl filled his ears.

He braced himself for impact, but… nothing.

Then he realised that the howls were coming from the other side of the cave. And that there was more than one voice making them. He opened his eyes to see Remus had gone. His large body lolloped across the cave, with the air of an excited dog, to join the rest of the werewolves who were calling him over. The young girl from before was there, smiling at Severus while she stroked Remus’ thick fur as he curled up at her feet. He instantly recalled what Sirius had told him when he asked why Remus had never attacked any of the Marauders in their animal forms.

_Because we were a pack._

***

Many anxious faces were waiting to greet them by the time they got back to Grimmauld Place.

“What on earth happened?!” Molly Weasley exclaimed as they stumbled across the threshold, Severus and Sirius supporting Remus on either side. “And who are all these people?!”

“Newest recruits for the Order of the Phoenix,” answered an exhausted yet very proud looking Remus. He gestured to the group of werewolves who had followed them back from the cave as he collapsed into the nearest chair. They stood huddled in the entranceway, looking about them with a mixture of trepidation and awe.

“But why didn’t you say so?!” She began to usher the dazed group of people down to the kitchen. “Come along, Tonks! Help me put the kettle on. This lot could use some tea!”

“Hey, I could use some too!” Nymphadora grumbled but followed her downstairs nonetheless.

Tea was forced upon everyone, fortifying them just as well as any potion Severus could think to brew. He found he couldn’t stop smiling at Remus. Every so often, a twinge of fear would run through him at what had happened. Had he gotten away with it undiscovered? All the Death Eaters who were there to witness his betrayal were now dead but, somehow, Severus couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point. That even if the Dark Lord wasn’t aware, there was no way he could go back to living that dual life.

For now, though, he was just grateful they were all alive.

“And just what possessed you to set off an explosion in the middle of a cave?” Alastor Moody asked after Sirius had relayed the story for a third time.

“Had to act quickly din’ we?” Mundungus said defensively. He had abandoned his tea and was starting on a very old-looking bottle of sherry in celebration.

“We would have acted a lot more quickly if you hadn’t led us down two wrong turns in the beginning!” Sirius snapped.

“Those caves were a blinkin’ maze,” he muttered into his bottle.

“Well, I suppose all’s well that ends well,” Molly sighed with a disapproving look towards Mundungus. She turned to Severus suddenly. “Now, Severus, you must stay here tonight. It’s far too dangerous for you to go apparating back to Hogwarts after what just happened.”

“That’s very kind of you, Molly, but I-“

“I won’t take no for an answer this time, Professor! I’ve already made up the spare room next to Remus’.”

“Actually, Molly,” said Sirius, inclining his head towards Remus and Severus over his mug and smirking, “I think these two would prefer a double room.”

“Oh! Well… that… that’s no problem at all!” Molly was turning slightly pink and looking more than slightly flustered. “I’ll get on that right now!” she finished as she hurried from the kitchen.

Sirius and Nymphadora sniggered at each other after she’d gone. Remus just smiled and intertwined his fingers with Severus’ over the table for all to see.

***

Severus hovered over the bed, still contemplating leaving despite the danger. Being here like this felt wrong somehow… like he still didn't deserve it. 

"Are you getting in?" asked Remus, eyes already heavy with sleep. 

"... yes." 

Severus pulled back the thin covers. 

"Aren't you going to get undressed first?" 

"Uh... right." 

He removed his robes with haste. Remus mercifully averted his gaze the whole time. Once undressed, Severus quickly slipped into the small bed that barely accommodated them both. It was ridiculous, considering how close they had already gotten, the things they had said (and the things they hadn't), but Severus took great pain in ensuring no part of them touched. He lay there rigid, heart-thumping almost as loudly as it had been in that cave hours earlier. 

"Feels odd," Severus heard himself say. 

Remus yawned. "What does?" 

"Being open." 

"About us or about being in full opposition to dark wizards?" 

"Both." 

He could feel, rather than see Remus smile in the darkness. That little exhale of amused air. Air that was suddenly tickling the side of his face. 

"Well I for one could get used to it," Remus breathed, trailing a hand down Severus' chest. 

"Thought you were tired?" 

Remus answered his question by pressing his lips hard against his own. Any trace of nervous awkwardness melted away as their touching returned to that state of desperation they both knew. It was a moment of pure feeling; of being truly alive. In truth, they didn't know how many more either of them would both have. But they would cling on to them whenever they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you so much for reading this story! Sorry this chapter is shorter than the rest. It was originally supposed to be three chapters but I got carried away! 
> 
> Much love to [M_Renoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Renoir/pseuds/M_Renoir) for the wonderful art! They are also an amazing writer and have a great Snupin fic on the go so check it out <3 <3 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [bunny-bopper](https://bunny-bopper.tumblr.com/)


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